


Into the Gray

by manifestingauthor98



Category: Black Widow - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 44,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29094348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manifestingauthor98/pseuds/manifestingauthor98
Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Natasha and Steve begin finding it harder and harder to trust each other. Barriers of the past keep threaten them apart. New secrets come to light, along with new perspectives, and in all of it, more questions arise. Who can they really trust? What is the truth? Together, maybe, they'll find out.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 20
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place after the events of Age of Ultron, but before Infinity War and Civil War.

She’d gotten used to views.

Whether it be overlooking city streets from the balcony of a palace in Turkey, looking down from one of the highest mountains in the Alps, or even observing a small villa from a rooftop in Brazil, she always reminded herself to stop (when she got the chance) and look around.

Standing on the balcony of the Avengers building that had quickly become her home, she ran her eyes over the lake and forest that surrounded the facility. She tried to memorize the way each branch bent, the small ripples in the water, the flower patch of blues and yellows growing wildly near the edge of the water.

Even the feeling that she felt deep in her stomach, one that she’d never known before all of this. Safety. Security. Friendship? She almost smiled, but stopped herself as she heard footsteps.

“Getting some air?” A male voice asked from behind her.

She didn’t need to turn around- his voice was easy enough for her to recognize, “I needed some…after the way training’s been going today.”

Steve took a spot next to her, casually leaning against the balcony. He appeared comfortable, but she noticed he wasn’t smiling fully- he hadn’t come out here to make small talk, but he replied to her comment nonetheless, “I have to admit – it’s really not getting old watching you argue with Vision.”

Natasha smirked, playing into his quip, “It’s hard to argue with his unmatched level of intelligence, but what he doesn’t have is what I’ve gathered over years and years on the job…” She leaned in, “Experience. Not everything is black and white.” She turned away from the view, leaning backwards against the railing.

She stared at herself in the reflection of the large glass doors of the building. The landscape behind her looked surreal, for a moment, she wasn’t sure any of it was real at all- maybe just a beautiful dream that she’d be forced to wake up from. To her left, she saw Steve turn towards her, his brows furrowed.

“What’s the job?” She asked before he could speak.

He took in a breath, a heavy one- which was uncharacteristic of him, “You ever think that someday we’ll retire and just be trainers? Ushering in the new generation…leaving behind the old…”

Something was bothering him. He was a _captain_ after all. Following orders, living to fulfill missions, that was where he found his purpose. Or at least where he had before… She turned to look at him, but he was staring longingly over the hills. She hadn’t even considered what the past few weeks must have been like for him – he’d been a soldier, moving and working constantly (she knew what that was like), but before that, he’d had a normal life (that- she was less familiar with). He must have gotten used to the peace they’d been granted during the past month. He must have gotten used to the normalcy.

And she didn’t have anything to say to help him. Normalcy was only a gift because it never lasted. Anything she tried to comfort him with would be futile- he’d just have to appreciate the peace of it all retrospectively…and move on.

He seemed to understand that too…and continued on with a sigh, “There’s a military base in Siberia. It has been abandoned for years, but recently, we’ve gotten word of supplies moving in and out of the facility.”

“Supplies?”

He didn’t look at her, “Guns, chemicals, technology.” He turned, “And people.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Kidnappings across the surrounding cities- all kids around the age of 10.”

She didn’t need him to continue, “Soldiers.”

He nodded solemnly, looking exhausted and frustrated by the evil of it, “It’s HYDRA. They’re moving in the same patterns, using the same codes to communicate, and training new soldiers.” He paused, “And who do you think they’d have leading the troops?”

“This isn’t about the facility at all, is it?” She asked skeptically, though she already knew the answer.

Steve raised his eyes to look at her, “Part of me wants to give up…to let him remain hidden, treat him like the ghost the rest of the world sees him as and move on, but…” He shook his head, looking both conflicted and angry at the same time, “I have to find him. The way they used him, what they made him into…”

Natasha was always suspicious of missions involving Steve’s old friend. To her, any leads on the nefarious _Winter Soldier_ were most definitely red herrings or traps or dead ends- she knew that too well- but Steve never seemed to take her warnings to heart. She still tried anyway, “How do you even know he’s there? Last we saw of him, he saved your life…but that doesn’t mean he’s not brainwashed anymore.”

Steve shrugged, his eyes directed downward. He’d never been very good at hiding his doubts. He obviously saw her point, but couldn’t bring himself to accept that this would be another dead end, “Regardless, the facility needs to be taken down. Either he’s there or they have information about him…and I’m going there to get it.” His eyes didn’t waver as he lifted his gaze to meet hers, “With or without you.”

Natasha didn’t look away from him either. She could see the determination deep in his eyes and immediately, she knew it wouldn’t be worth it to argue anymore. His mind was made up. A small smile broke across her face, “I don’t know how far you’ll get without me, seeing as you don’t know Russian.”

Steve’s expression softened a bit then. He looked relieved that the tension between them had diffused, “So you’re in?”

She knew that she had to go with him, but she couldn’t let it go without trying to make him see…one more time, “You know retiring is never going to be an option for you if you keep chasing a ghost.”

“Are you in or not?”

He’d seen right through her attempt- forcing her to respond directly to his question. She did, with a sigh, “I’m am this time, but you can’t keep looking forever.” She knew how frustrating and trying that could be.

“Not forever.” Steve finally agreed with a small nod, “But I’m not giving up on him just yet. If it were you, wouldn’t you want me to keep looking?”

Classic Steve, trying to get her to empathize with the situation, to relate to it. He always misinterpreted his audience though. Mixing feelings with missions very clearly wasn’t her style. And she was determined to make sure that it never would be. She was logical, skilled, efficient, and she wouldn’t be emotionally manipulated by him, or by anyone. Ever.

“If I disappear, Steve, it probably means that I don’t want to be found.” She told him blankly, but he didn’t seem to like her answer, so she continued on with a tactical shift in subject, “Look, you’re right. Bucky may need your help, that’s why I’m agreeing to help.” She said with a small smile, “I just want you to be practical.”

Steve offered up a small smile too- a truce, “I’ll try my best.” He replied, and she knew that he meant it, “When are you set to leave?”

“I can be ready by tonight.” She responded before nodding back towards the Avengers building, “What do we do with the rookies?”

Steve’s smile grew even larger, “You think it’s time for them to have a test run?”

* * *

Wanda looked down at her hands, calmly shifting small red orbs around her fingers as the jet climbed in altitude. They passed quietly over the ocean on their way to Siberia, the rest of the jet calm and silent as the other members of the team rested. But she couldn’t. Truthfully, she was having trouble taking her mind off of their impending mission.

The training had, of course, been helping her to control her abilities, but she still felt like she was a danger to everyone else. As a less experienced member of the team, she didn’t want to get in the way or let anyone down- she didn’t want to be a liability.

She still wasn’t sure why they were bringing her on this mission. She and Sam had been training for weeks, yet she could still feel that they were both trying to find their place in all of this. It all felt like it was happening too fast. And too soon. She wished she still had her brother with her to make it all a little bit easier to swallow. He would’ve understood.

_I don’t mean to rub it in right now…but technically I’m more experienced than you are…by all of two minutes, but still…_

And then he’d flash her a smile.

The thought of it made her stomach turn – but she still let herself get lost in the memory, succumbing to his bright blue gaze, longing for it to be real. For him to be with her again.

She barely noticed Natasha taking a seat next to her.

“You know…” Natasha began in a soft tone, softer than usual, but maybe that was because everyone else on the jet was resting, “Not that this matters, but technically, you’re the youngest Avenger we’ve had to date.”

Wanda looked over at her, tilting her head.

“It’s true.” Natasha continued, “You’re 18. Before you, the next youngest person to join was me. I was 23.” She smirked proudly. That was something Wanda always respected. Her confidence- she never seemed to doubt herself or her skills, “Apparently, there’s a high school kid swinging around New York in a spider suit, but he’s not an Avenger just yet. So you’re our resident rookie for the time being.”

“Is that supposed to be a good thing?” Wanda asked, unsure of where Nat was trying to go with this. She had a feeling that it was going to turn into a mentoring moment, but at the same time, conversations with the older spy never seemed to go the way she predicted.

Natasha rolled her eyes, elbowing Wanda lightly in the arm, “Don’t make me give you the speech about power and responsibility. It’s impressive how far you’ve come in the last few weeks, especially at your age.”

Wanda gave a small shrug, “Age breeds experience…”

_Age breeds experience. When you’re younger, you’re easier to take advantage of. If you can’t be the oldest person in the room, be the smartest. And learn from your mistakes. Then, you become the most experienced, too._

It was something that Natasha herself had said during training.

Natasha’s mouth almost twitched into a smile as she recognized her own words. She pressed her lips together, thinking before she responded, “Okay, you’re right. You are inexperienced.” She agreed, “But you’ve still seen more than most people have in their lifetime. And you’ve been training and working hard. Cap and I would both trust you with our lives.”

Wanda gave in then, releasing a breath, “I never thought I would be capable of this. Of control. Of using my abilities for something more than an experiment or personal gain.” She smiled sadly, “I don’t deserve what you guys have given me.”

Natasha gazed downward, a knowing look in her eyes. She paused again, choosing her words carefully again before she met Wanda’s eyes, “I didn’t think I did either.” She replied, “But there’s a difference between redemption and rehabilitation. This team isn’t waiting on you to prove that you’ve changed.” She told her, “It’s giving you the opportunity to.”

Wanda was silent for a few beats.

_Mom would have liked her._

She shook her brother’s voice out of her head and looked over at Nat, letting herself smile. She’d never thought of Natasha as a particularly compassionate type, but somehow, she always seemed to be in tune with other people’s emotions. And the genuine look that she was giving Wanda now made her feel more at peace. But she knew there was more to Nat than she was letting on- who she really was seemed to be a tangled mystery- one that Wanda was much too curious about, much too determined to unweave.

When she finally replied to Nat, she began apprehensively, “I know this is personal, but when I fought with Ultron, I used my powers to see into your minds- to evoke things that would throw each of you off balance. And when I looked into yours, I think I saw some glimpses of your past…” She looked over and tried to read Natasha, but her face and eyes were blank. Wanda tried to keep in mind that Nat had been trained for this sort of thing, so it made sense that she wasn’t reacting. But it was still unsettling. Hesitantly, she continued, “How did you become an assassin?”

Natasha barely took a beat. Usually for someone with traumatic memories, a pause indicated hesitation, but Nat didn’t waste a moment, “I was trained by Russian operatives with a group of other girls.” Her voice didn’t falter once, but she didn’t seem to want to grapple with specifics, “I quickly surpassed the others- becoming dangerous, and often times, deadly --which is what got me the name Black Widow.”

“Why were they training all of these girls to kill people?”

Natasha raised her eyebrows, her mouth curving into a coy smirk, “This is Russia we’re talking about.” She stood up casually as if that were a good enough explanation, and then moved up towards the front of the jet again.

Wanda knew that wasn’t the full story. She’d seen more with her own eyes when she’d gone into Natasha’s mind. What she’d said hadn’t been a lie, but it also hadn’t been fully truthful either. It felt avoidant- and she had a feeling that as much as Nat wanted to keep Wanda from the truth, she wanted to keep herself from it as well. Judging from how shaken up Nat had been after Wanda triggered her memories, they had to mean more to her than she was letting on.

But Nat wasn’t the only one with thoughts and memories that she’d rather leave untouched. So Wanda knew it was best to let her be.

* * *

Within the next few hours, they were landing on an iced-over air strip. The land around them was white with snow, with a grey sky extending above them. It looked dreary and bland- as if all color had been drained from the world.

The wheels slipped slightly on the ice when they brought the jet down. As the doors opened, a large gust of cool air rushed in, blowing Wanda’s hair backwards and leaving behind small flakes of snow to contrast against her dark red hair.

“Hope everyone brought their winter gear.” Clint said with a smirk as he exited the jet, his large winter coat protecting him from the snowy winds. When he stepped on the ice, however, his foot faltered.

He skidded forward for a moment before he felt two supporting hands on his back, “Hope everyone else remembered their _land legs_.” Natasha’s voice came from behind him, “Seems like you’re getting a little too comfortable with sandy beaches and mojitos, Barton.”

Clint continued forward on the icy ground after regaining his balance, “It was _one_ vacation.” He quipped back, “You should try it sometime.”

Natasha feigned confusion, walking ahead of him confidently, “What are you talking about?” She gestured towards the snowy white expanse ahead of them, “We’re practically on vacation right now.”

Clint shook his head, clapping a light hand on her shoulder, “Russia may be home to you, but it’s not exactly 5-star.” He raised his eyebrows, “At least not in my experience.”

“You just haven’t tried the vodka yet.”

Clint let out a quick laugh, his breath showing in front of him. His eyes were bright and playful, meeting hers as he shot her another smile and then turned back around to remain focused on his footing.

Nat found it easy to tease with him. He always baited her, made it easy, and usually, she was down for the game. But today, it felt strained- not that she would ever let that show. Being here made her feel uneasy, which she should have expected- but she’d thought the past was far behind her, that the memories were unfeeling, harmless images in her brain, that she _wasn’t_ who she used to be. But setting foot on this familiar ground was enough to make her pause. The chilled winds brushed harshly against her skin, reminding her of her childhood, reminding her of home.

For a moment, a snowy garden flashed before her eyes. She looked across the large yard, the flowers in the garden turned to icy glass. It was beautiful and white, untouched by darkness and imperfection.

Her eyes lowered even further.

She watched as a single drop of red fell onto the white canvas.

“You coming?” Clint called back at her.

She suddenly felt nauseous, almost able to still feel the dampness of the blood on her hands. Despite all the clothing she had wrapped around her, at her core, she felt cold. Colder than she should have. The white land ahead of her felt foreboding, daring her to venture back into its depths, reminding her of its hostility. Of her own hostility.

“Nat?” Sam asked, stopping at her side and analyzing her curiously. 

She hadn’t even realized she’d completely stopped walking.

_The past doesn’t have power over you._

It saddened her that she often had to remind herself of that. But knowing that she could move on, that she had the power to move forward with the future…to atone for her past, it grounded her back in reality- leaving only the harsh chill against her skin behind.

She shot a quick smile in Sam’s direction, quickly displacing anything she might have been feeling moments before, “Keep your eyes on your feet, Wilson. We don’t need another Hawkeye sliding across some ice.”

Sam shook his head with laugh and continued walking, easily accepting her bait. No one would pass up the opportunity to taunt Barton.

Steve emerged from the jet behind them with Wanda, “We’re spending the night here.” He said over the wind, gesturing to a bunker a few yards away, “This used to be a secret SHIELD safehouse, but now it’s all ours.”

They made their way over to the small square building at the edge of the air strip. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. There was a single door on the front wall. It had a code prompt, but they’d thought ahead for that, having hacked old SHIELD files to find the codes. Steve entered the digits into the keypad and the door came open with a large squeak.

A dark stairway stretched ahead of them. None of them spoke as they entered, dim lights leading them down into a tunnel. As they went down, the large steel door shut behind them, blocking the wind and snow from coming in. At the bottom of the stairs, they found a lengthy hallway with a single door at the end. This door was smaller, but still looked to be fairly fortified.

Steve reached forward for the handle and pulled the door open. They were all expecting another dark hallway or dungeon or something else ominous, but as all they came through, motion activated lights came on and illuminated something much different.

It was a large living area. There were a few couches and chairs set up in a circle near the front of the room, encircling a large screen (which may have been a TV or communication screen in the past). A kitchen area was located on the rightmost wall, equipped with a stove and an oven. Just in front of it, there was a large dining table with enough seats for all of them to sit. 

From the looks of it, there were two other rooms attached to this one as well.

“We should make this the Avengers summer home.” Sam said with a small smirk.

Clint scoffed, accepting another opportunity to make a joke, “It’d probably still be 10 degrees or less in the middle of summer.” He pointed at Sam, “I do like the idea of a summer home for us though.”

“What did I say?” Natasha joined in, the bait dangling in front of her, allowing her to easily cast another teasing line at her friend, “That vacation has gone to your head.” She poked the side of Clint’s head.

He rolled his eyes as the team immediately spread out, moving into the rooms. It was quickly decided that Wanda and Natasha would share one room while Sam and Steve would share the other. Clint, a loud snorer, would sleep on the large couch in the living room where he wouldn’t be able to disturb anyone else.

“Before everyone goes to sleep, we need to go over the plan for tomorrow.” Steve pulled out a map that they’d gotten before they left. It was an overhead view of the base they were looking to infiltrate. He pointed towards a large building at the back of the compound, “Now, this is most likely where all the children are being held.”

Natasha couldn’t resist challenging his authority. It didn’t feel right to let everyone else think that was all this mission was about, “And what’s our number one priority here, Cap?” She pointed to the map, “Because the higher-ups, they’re gonna be here in this building on the right with all the computers and intel…”

Steve looked up, eyes flashing ever so slightly. He was never that good at hiding his emotion- she could easily see that her comments were irritating him, “The children are our number one priority.” He answered curtly, “To get in, we’re gonna have to go underground. According to the old plans for this building, there are tunnels that run underneath all the buildings. The old maps show where the entrances are because that’s where the construction began, but what we don’t know…is the layout once we’re down there. We’re going to have to figure that out as we go.”

“Guards?” Sam asked, taking a seat at the long table- sitting by Cap’s side. Whether this was purposeful or not, Natasha wasn’t sure, but she also wasn’t surprised. Sam’s loyalty to Steve was unmatched- even after some brutal rounds of training.

Steve shrugged, “We don’t know. So Wanda, that’s why we’re sending you in first-”

Clint stepped forward then, “Wanda?” He asked skeptically, any trace of his joking persona fading quickly, “Now, I like the idea of her going Scarlet Witch on everybody just as much as everyone else, but when we’re going in, isn’t the element of surprise our best bet?”

Natasha liked the way he thought- he was very much like her- practical, efficient, and strategic. He sugared his comments with jokes much more than she did, but they seemed to agree on a deeper, ideological level- that was why she trusted him so much- and why they had been the most successful team SHIELD had ever seen.

Steve took in a breath, looking over the map, “Yea, good point.” He paused, “Nat, this is your area of expertise. You go in first, do what you have to do. And clear the way for the rest of us. All we need is to get through the door at the end of the first tunnel and then clear the first building. Then we’re in.”

Natasha wasn’t worried about that, “Easy enough.” She was always fan of espionage over a fight- it was much cleaner and quieter. Not only that, but it gave her the opportunity to experiment with the art of manipulation, one that she’d just about mastered, but enjoyed to be creative with.

“From there, we head to get the children. There will be a rescue team stationed at this entrance just behind the building. Sam and I will clear a path while the rest of you guys get the kids out and lead them to the rescue team.”

Natasha nodded in approval. It was a solid plan, but she knew there was more than he was letting on. And she wanted to hear him say it, “And what comes after that?”

Steve met her eyes again, but this time, his gaze was calm and stony. Still, she could tell from his mannerisms and speech that she was working his nerves, “After that, Wanda, Sam, Clint- I want you guys to clear the tunnel for us again. Nat and I are gonna go through the intel building to get out. While we’re there, we’re gonna gather all the information that we can and hopefully take down a few of their leaders along the way.”

He paused, “Questions?”

When no one spoke, he nodded quickly, “Okay everyone, get some sleep. We’ve got a big day tomorrow. We leave before dawn.”

The team moved away from the table, each one beginning to slowly get ready for bed. If the rookies were anxious, they didn’t show it.

Natasha turned away from Steve and the table, starting to follow Wanda back to their shared room, but before she could make it very far, she felt a hand grip her arm, not too rough, but firm enough to get her attention, “Nat, can I get a word?” Steve asked quietly, but he sounded like he was talking through his teeth.

She spun slowly to face him, her expression blank. She wasn’t afraid of him, especially not on this issue. She gave a silent nod, taking dominance in the conversation by not saying a word.

He gestured to the door and they exited out into the hallway, away from the rest of the team, “What are you trying to do?” He asked angrily once they were alone.

Natasha stared back at him. She couldn’t decide what tactic to take. She could play dumb, act like she wasn’t doing anything, just to make him angry. She knew her sarcasm would bother him. But is that what she really wanted? Ultimately, she chose to be more practical. This conversation would only be productive if she was direct, “You know exactly what I was trying to do.” She shot back, unafraid, “This mission isn’t about those kids. This mission isn’t about intel or the greater good, no. You know what it’s about.”

“Everything I said back there was the truth.” He replied without conviction- even he didn’t sound like he believed what he was saying, “We do care about those kids. We _are_ going to get intel. Since when do I have to explain what the intel is?”

Natasha chuckled, rolling her eyes.

“Is something funny?”

She shook her head, aiming a cutting glare at him, “You don’t even see it, do you?” She advanced toward him, “You’re exactly what you used to hate. Missions within missions. Intel. Secrets.” She pointed to his heart, “You’re SHIELD.”

She could tell her words stung him, but only because he knew it was true. He took a few moments before responding, “I _have_ to find him.”

Natasha could see the desperation in his eyes, the hurt behind them that had been building for years (decades, even). And it swept the momentum of her anger out from under her, “I know.” She responded, more compassion in her voice than before, “But let us help you. Continuing on this mission with them thinking that it’s something it’s not, not only is it dangerous, it’s unfair.”

Steve sighed heavily, looking resigned, “I’ll tell them tomorrow.” He concluded, “But next time, can you talk to me about all of this earlier, instead of challenging me in front of everyone?” He raised his eyebrows.

Natasha saw his point and knew that she had to acknowledge it, “I could’ve handled it better.” She gave him, “But I just had to take advantage of the one time that Captain America hasn’t been perfect.” She smiled playfully.

Steve shook his head, cracking a small smile too. He wasn’t one to joke back, but he still seemed to appreciate the gesture. His smile softened into a more genuine, serious one then, “You know, I still want you with me tomorrow when we break off for the intel.”

“Break off?” Natasha raised her eyebrows flirtatiously, “I didn’t realize it was _that_ kind of mission.” 

She could tell that Steve almost smiled again, but couldn’t let it get through, “You know what I mean.” He continued on, ignoring her move, “I trust you.”

“I know you’re only saying that because I’m good with computers.” She said with another smile, “You need me.”

Steve rolled his eyes, not giving in to her jokes this time. It seemed like he was gathering a larger theme from it all- one that wasn’t too far off base actually, “How much is it to ask you to admit that you trust me too?”

“The only people you can trust are the dead because they can’t turn on you.” Natasha shot back quickly, before she could even think- it was like instinct, it was what she’d been taught since she was a child, “And even then, sometimes they find a way to stab you in the back too.”

Steve didn’t seem like he could tell if she was joking or not, but he looked intrigued to have stumbled on something personal and important, “Do you even trust yourself?”

Natasha creased her eyebrows. That was an interesting question, “I trust my abilities, but do I trust myself?” She shook her head, “You can betray yourself, Steve. And honestly, sometimes, that can be even worse.” She paused and narrowed her eyes, “Every day you wear that ridiculous outfit, don’t you feel like you’re betraying yourself? Just a little bit?”

Steve smirked then, allowing one of her jokes to pull him in fully, “Are you ever serious about anything?” He was letting her off the hook, which she appreciated, but she still felt like she needed to go on.

Her smile slowly faded, “I trust you, Steve.” She looked into his deep blue eyes, mesmerized by how American and true he always seemed to look. He practically embodied morality and idealism, even just in his gaze. She let her own eyes display something deeper, but just for a quick moment, “That’s hard for me to admit.”

Steve paused, his eyes searching hers, reading into them- looking…but she didn’t give too much for him to work with, just a slight taste- and then she retreated back into blankness, averting her eyes. But he continued, “Remember when you told me that you are whoever you need to be – whoever people want you to be…”

“I’m _not_ just telling you this because it’s what you want to hear.” Natasha wasn’t joking now and she needed him to know that, “I’m telling you because it’s something I need to say.”

She really did appreciate how much he’d forced her to grow. His trust in her had made her want to return it in him. She truly did trust him, and she was still trying to rationalize whether that was a mistake or an asset.

Steve put a hand on her arm, “Stay close tomorrow.” He said as he turned to go back in the other room, “Can’t have you sneaking away on your own secret mission again.”

Natasha smirked from behind him, knowing that he had baited her on purpose. Again, he’d given her an out to release the tension- one that she wholeheartedly appreciated, “ _Stay close,_ _break off with me_ …Steve, I can’t tell if you’re giving me orders or coming onto me?” She smirked, “Maybe both?”

“Your flirting is dangerous, Nat.”

She smiled as they re-entered the living room. Absent-mindedly, she thought of green. For a moment, her heart ached. She thought about how she’d trusted him too. And where had that gotten her?

“Goodnight, Nat.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

They quietly separated into their rooms, ignoring Clint, who had already started snoring from his spot on the couch.


	2. Chapter 2

Wanda wasn’t sure where she was. The snow covering the ground around her was so white it hurt her eyes. Her feet were freezing and when she looked down, she realized it was because she didn’t have shoes on- just her bare feet against the snow.

She wasn’t in control.

Her feet began to move, but she wasn’t doing it.

Every step hurt. She must have been walking for a while because her feet were torn up and numb from the cold. Ahead of her, she made out a building in the fog.

Slowly, she approached the door. The handle didn’t budge when she tried it. So carefully, she used a small metal tool to pick the frozen lock.

Quietly, she was able to push the door open.

It was a small cabin, but the living room looked quaint. Someone had been there recently, there were still embers in the fireplace. On the shelves, there were pictures of a family. A man and a woman, kissing and holding hands. And then, a few pictures down, a family portrait where their son stood between them. He looked to be about 7 or 8.

_Remember your training_ , a voice said. It sounded familiar.

She moved in like a ghost, not making a sound, barely breathing. She entered the first room and with a series of shots, it was over. They hadn’t even been awake.

Wanda was disgusted and she knew her stomach should have turned, but she didn’t feel nauseous. In fact, she didn’t feel anything accept adrenaline.

As she moved down the hallway, she heard the creaking of a bed from a room at the end of the hall. Slowly, she crept further down the hallway and pushed open the door where the noise had come from. Inside the room, a young boy sat on his bed, legs pulled to his chest and tears running down his face. He looked both heartbroken and mortified all at the same time, his big eyes pleading her for mercy.

He hadn’t had the chance to do any wrong yet. There was a chance he could do more good in the world than she even knew. _He’s just a boy_ , the voice said again. She could see the way that he was looking at her, like she was a monster.

_I am_ , the voice seemed to respond.

Without any more hesitation, she finally raised the gun. Ahead of her, in the window, she caught a glimpse of herself, a young girl (no older than 14), dressed in all black with dark red hair, a gun in her hand, and a blank expression. Within the same second, a bright flash filled the room and the bang that followed jerked Wanda awake in the bed of the safehouse, where she found herself drenched in sweat. Illuminating the room, her hands were glowing red.

Next to her, Wanda could hear Natasha breathing just as heavily as she was. Slowly, her hands dimmed and returned to normal as she tried to grapple with what she’d just seen.

Natasha sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed that was facing away from Wanda. She leaned forward, as if she was going to throw up, staring directly at the blank wall ahead of her.

Wanda knew then what she’d just witnessed. She wasn’t sure whether to mention it or not, especially considering that Natasha seemed to still be trying to get herself under control. She wondered if Nat even knew that she’d seen.

A few feet away, however, all Natasha was even thinking about was control. She felt like she was out of control.

_Get a hold of yourself_ , she thought, her mind spinning.

Looking down at her bare feet, she was reminded of the dream. She’d walked miles to that house, having to ditch her shoes once she got close because they’d gotten too torn up from the journey.

The dream.

The boy, the fear in his eyes as he stared at her. What would her team think if they knew? Would Steve trust her then? She thought of the countless lives she’d taken. She was a monster, a deadly poison. A weapon.

And even though it felt like the best thing she could do to make amends would be to just die, she knew that the value of her life would never be worth enough to make up for the ones she’d stolen.

Maybe that was what her suffering was for.

“Nat?” Wanda asked gently from behind her.

She swallowed and sat up, so that she wasn’t hunched over the side of the bed anymore. Her arms were still shaking slightly, but she clasped her hands together to make it less obvious. 

“Are you alright?” Wanda followed up.

Natasha didn’t respond right away. She took a moment to even out her breath, “I’m alright. Sometimes I have trouble sleeping.” She moved her legs back onto the bed so that she could look over at Wanda, “But I’d guess you’re no stranger to late nights either.”

Wanda gave an understanding nod, “I bet a lot of people in the building aren’t.”

Natasha gestured towards Wanda, “Glowing hands.” She commented, even though they looked normal now, “Were you moving around the furniture in your sleep?”

Wanda wasn’t sure how to respond. She was almost certain that Natasha was playing her- that she knew what had been going on and was trying to catch her if she decided to lie, “Actually, I think…I think I may have been in your mind.”

“What?”

So she hadn’t known.

Wanda had to continue anyway, “I saw your dream with the family and…and the boy…”

“So the plane ride wasn’t enough for you, was it?” She was sitting up again now, moving toward the edge of the bed closer to Wanda, “You thought you’d get the answers you wanted through your own means.”

Wanda shook her head, sitting up too so that she was at eye level with her, “No! I was asleep and then I was in your dream…and then I woke up and my hands were glowing. It was completely involuntary.” She explained, unsettled by the fire in her mentor’s eyes, “Maybe…maybe your emotions and thoughts were just so _intense_ that it could sense it.” She looked down at her hands.

Natasha shook her head then, “You shouldn’t have seen that. You need to learn to keep your powers under control.” She said flatly, harshly, “Until you learn to do that, you’ll never be one of us.”

“Nat, I’m sorry!” Wanda tried. She hated this feeling. She hated how disappointed and angry Nat seemed to be about the invasion of privacy. Had she done it on purpose? Had her desire to learn more subconsciously allowed her to enter Natasha’s mind? She felt guilty regardless.

And Natasha wasn’t ready to let her off the hook either, “You’re sorry, well, that can’t undo anything. That can’t let you unsee what you saw and now, you know too much. You know-”

“Too much? Just because I saw one memory from your head doesn’t mean I _know too much_. No one here knows anything about you! That’s why one thing is _too much_ for you!” Wanda exclaimed. She’d decided to fight fire with fire. Maybe Natasha would respond to that. Maybe she would respect her for standing up for herself, for fighting to know more about her…in a _fair way_ , that wasn’t an invasion.

Natasha was standing now, gaining the dominant position, “No, that’s twice now that you’ve been in my head.” Her voice was filled with frustration, but her eyes were still level, “There’s a reason no one knows anything about me.” She stormed to the foot of her bed to start pacing.

“You’re not a monster.”

She stopped walking, her back turned to Wanda.

Wanda continued on, able to see that Natasha had stopped to listen to her, “You think that you are, or that you were. But I know that you’re more than that.” She said confidently, “A monster wouldn’t have trained me with the patience and compassion that you have. A monster wouldn’t have come to talk to me on the jet today when I was nervous.” She paused, “A monster wouldn’t still be having dreams about people they killed a decade ago. A monster would have forgotten it. They wouldn’t be _grieving_.”

Natasha didn’t move- it didn’t even seem like she was breathing.

“The dream, the guilt. That’s what makes you human.”

Natasha let out a defeated sigh, “That’s just it.” She turned around to face Wanda, “The memories now, they’re tainted with the guilt and the remorse and the sadness, but when I left that house that day, I didn’t feel anything.” She confessed, “I was empty. I always felt empty. But that made it easier to keep doing it…I didn’t have anything to atone for, nothing to lose. I was numb to the world, and exhilarated by the chase and the kill because it was what I was good at and it was the only thing that I had.” She sighed, “Monster was too kind of a word to use for me.”

She turned to look at Wanda through the darkness, her tone much more even and her eyes calm, “You don’t have to sit here and try to comfort me or convince me that I’m worth something.” She gestured towards herself, “I know what I’m worth. I know that I’ve moved on…but that doesn’t mean that all the time I put in, all the _years_ of my life that I spent _enjoying_ being a killer, were some kind of hazy mistake. Unfortunately, they made me who I am.”

“Unfortunately?”

Natasha stared at her, a deep blankness to her eyes, “When I say you know too much, Wanda, I mean it.” She didn’t break eye contact, “You’ve seen a glimpse of the surface, but if you really saw the defining moments of my life…you’d wish you hadn’t.”

Wanda took in a breath, “How can you truly trust someone when you don’t understand them?”

“Exactly.” Natasha said with a nod, “You _can’t_ trust me…but you can count on me.”

Wanda wasn’t sure what to make of that. This was the most in-depth conversation that she’d ever had with Nat about her core set of beliefs and she had a feeling it wasn’t going very well, “I do count on you. You’ve been a friend to me since I joined. But…I want to understand you too. And I think that’s why my powers worked the way they did.”

Natasha sighed and took a seat on her bed, obviously having cooled down in the last few minutes, “I know. I know you weren’t trying to do any harm.” She looked at her, “And I know you’ve been through a lot too. And I think that’s why I’ve been working so much with you. You’re tough. You remind me of me, when I was younger.”

Wanda smiled a little bit, taking that as a compliment.

“But that’s why I want to protect you too.” Natasha added, her tone the slightest bit more foreboding, “I want to protect you from the faults that shaped me. I want you to be a better version.” She gave a small smile, “And you already are.”

Wanda appreciated that, finding a warm feeling of security knowing that Natasha believed in her, and trusted her, “I didn’t know all that.” She said, “I’m sorry again for over-stepping. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Natasha said with a smirk. Oddly enough, it seemed like she was returning to her normal self, “At least we had a soft red alarm clock to get us up on time.” She smiled, “Come on, if we get ready before everyone else, we get first pick of whatever food is left in this place.” She said as she moved into the bathroom.

Wanda watched her go, completely baffled by the conversation they’d just had, but also astonished at all she’d just learned. Her stomach growled, interrupting her thoughts, and she quickly got up to follow Nat, hoping Clint hadn’t gotten a head start on breakfast. 

* * *

The cold wasn’t even the hardest part of their mission that morning. Although navigating through all the white in the night time was burdensome, even worse was the exhaustion. They were freezing, but stepping through the few feet of snow on the ground burned their leg muscles to their core and the clothes that were supposed to be helping them stay warm were only weighing them down after a while.

They had to park their vehicle over a ridge so that it wouldn’t be spotted. They were only about a mile from the tunnel opening, but in the snow, it took them twice as long to cover that ground.

The sun began to rise over the ridge behind them, lighting their path just as they reached the area where they knew the tunnel opening would be.

The only one not completely exhausted by the time they got there was, of course, Steve.

To their dismay, the opening was initially covered in snow, but Clint had a metal detector and he used it to quickly find the steel under the surface. They pushed the snow off of it, revealing a large sliding steel door that would most likely lead downward into the tunnel by ladder.

The door was locked with a large steel lock and looked to be frozen shut.

“Looks like they don’t use this door much.” Sam commented, staring at the iced over steel.

Steve nodded, leaning over it, “Yea, that’s why we picked it.” He smirked and pulled his shield off of his back. He reared back and then slammed the steel lock. It faltered slightly and after a few more good hits, he successfully broke it off.

Clint tried to push the sliding hatch open, but it wouldn’t budge. It had to be the ice keeping it shut.

“Anyone got a light?” Natasha asked suddenly, looking around.

Clint pulled a lighter out of his belt and tossed it to her.

Natasha leaned over the shaft, “Wanda.” She gestured for her to come over, “When I light it, can you push the fire onto the door and hold it there to warm it up?”

Wanda nodded, holding her hands out, ready.

Steve got closer, wrapping his hands around the door’s handle, getting ready to pull.

Natasha lit the lighter and immediately, a bright red ball engulfed it. A fire burned inside the protected red ball as it moved over the door. Encapsulated successfully, the fire grew in itself, increasing in size and intensity.

The people standing close enough could feel its warmth.

Steve pulled the door. It wasn’t moving at first, but after a few moments, it started to budge. He twisted, trying to jimmy the door and force it to slide open.

Eventually, enough ice had melted that it was moving much more cooperatively. Steve still had to work and shake it to make it slide, but finally, they got it open enough that a person would be able to fit through.

Wanda pushed the heated red ball into the snow where the fire went out easily.

Natasha tossed the lighter back to Clint, “Guess that’s my cue.” She said, nodding to the open sliding door. She looked in, saw the ladder, and swung her legs around, about to start climbing down.

“Nat, be careful.” Steve said, stepping closer to her as she began to descend. He always got antsy when dealing with these kinds of things- _unplanned_ things. “You don’t know what you’re walking into.”

Natasha gave a small smirk, expecting this type of thing from him. But she was much too familiar with improvising, “We never do, do we?” She shrugged, “What’s the sense in planning?”

His reaction was less than amused.

She caught a glint of troubling concern in his clear blue eyes. But it flittered away before she was able to really interpret it. Was he worried about her? Didn’t he trust her skills? She shook the thoughts away, knowing that wasn’t what it was about. He would have been concerned about anyone, or at least that was how she rationalized it.

“Look, I’ll be fine.” Natasha assured him, “Keep your ears open. I’ll give you the all clear when its ready.” She gave them a nod before continuing to climb down.

She moved downwards quickly, descending into darkness, which felt all the more encapsulating because her eyes were failing to adjust from the blinding white snow she’d just been looking at. Wherever she was going, she knew it wasn’t lit up and when she brought herself to look down, she could only faintly see the end due to the light that was streaming in from above her.

When she finally reached the bottom and stepped down onto the ground below her, she turned around and gazed down the tunnel, but it was hard to make out- even with the small amount of light from above.

There were no lights at all on this stretch. It looked as if it hadn’t been inhabited or touched in years. However, further down, she could see that there was faint light flooding in from around a corner.

Quietly, she made her way down this lengthy stretch of darkened tunnel. About halfway down, she discarded her outer jacket, leaving behind just her very official-looking cloak, which concealed her usual combat uniform. Brushing a little bit of snow out of her hair, she approached the turn where the light was coming from.

Distantly, she heard a few voices. From where she was, she couldn’t really make out what they were saying. But she could tell that there weren’t that many of them.

She took in a breath and then stepped out into the light, confidently turning the corner. If there was anyone looking at her, she had to look like she belonged- she had to radiate certainty and conviction. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she scanned the scene ahead of her.

There was a staircase on the wall to her right. In front of it were two armed guards, they were each holding automatic weapons and wearing tactical gear. It seemed that this wasn’t their usual post because they looked to be more prepared for a much different type of mission. Combat gear and guns that big weren’t usual of entrance guards. She guessed this must have been a temporary placement.

Beyond them, the tunnel split off to the right and left.

A few yards ahead, the men had finally taken notice of her. But she hadn’t been trying to hide. She walked heavily towards them, her head high, and a thin smile on her face. Her steps echoed powerfully through the tunnel.

They looked confused, and rightfully so, she expected not many people came from the direction that she had just emerged from.

“Stop walking.” One of the men ordered, raising his gun. But deeper in his eyes, he looked unsettled. He was too eager with his gun, too forward and direct, conveying instability, and a slight amount of panic.

But Natasha didn’t stop, “I don’t remember seeing the two of you down here last time.” She commented with a smirk and an easygoing calmness to her voice that contrasted his, “You can relax. They know I’m coming.”

The man who’d ordered her to stop didn’t let it go that easily, “Stop walking or I’ll shoot.”

Natasha didn’t stop that time either. She could tell that he was uneasy, unsure of her intentions, and looked like he didn’t want to believe they had an intruder- she could help him with that, “Shoot me?” She raised her eyebrows, “You haven’t even asked who I am yet.”

“We weren’t told to expect anyone today. I don’t need to know who you are.” The guard retorted, although he didn’t realize that he was arming her with even more information that she could use. It reflected a deeper hierarchy. They were obedience to whoever their higher-ups were, regardless of the situation, regardless of their own judgements. That was dangerous, but it was also corruptible. No one wanted to live without a choice.

_You are mine. A beautiful machine. You have no choice other than to be what I have made you. Without us, you have no purpose._

It was too familiar.

Natasha didn’t give it another thought, reminding herself to focus. She moved closer to the guards, slowing down. The louder guard still had his gun trained on her, but the other looked unentertained. “Let me make this really simple for you.” She smirked and reached into her coat pocket.

She heard his gun cock, just in case she was pulling out a weapon.

“Here’s my identification.” Natasha held out a small card to him, “My name is Natalia Romanova. I was invited here last week, and they asked me last minute to return to help with some of the other trainers.”

The guard narrowed his eyes, “Slide it to me.”

She lowered to the ground and slid the card to him. This seemed to be a good sign. He could have just shot her without taking the time to look at her ID. So this meant he was at least giving her story consideration.

As he bent down to look at it, she took the opportunity to move closer, “They call me the Black Widow.”

She usually never outed her persona that quickly, but maybe it was time to try something new- they were in Russia after all. Her story had become somewhat of an urban legend in her homeland. Often times, her name itself struck fear into the men she came into contact with. Fear or often, admiration. Either of those things could be an asset in this situation.

He looked up at that, both intrigued and apprehensive at the same time. His eyes lowered, as if he were sizing her up, “I thought she was a myth.”

“Makes sense now, doesn’t it?” She raised her eyebrows, “That’s probably why they didn’t tell you I was coming.”

The other guard chimed in now. His eyes had a familiar glow in them that she couldn’t quiet place, but maybe it was just his fearlessness, “The Black Widow, hmm?” He asked, his Russian accent thick, “I’ve heard she can kill 10 men with her bare hands and seduce even more with a bat of her eyelashes.”

Natasha smiled and looked over at him now. Finally, this was something that she could work with, “I thought the Black Widow was a myth?” She moved closer to him, drawing his attention exactly where she intended to. His eyes traced over her figure, but she never felt exposed. She’d been trained not to feel anything about male desire, or even about sex at all.

“A beautiful dream.” The second guard commented, his smile revealing more specifically what he knew about her reputation, “People who’ve seen her find it hard to forget.”

The first guard was still holding her card and didn’t seem sold, “Hey, don’t get too close. We still have to check with upstairs before you can go anywhere.” He was clutching his gun, but he’d lowered it now.

Natasha looked back at the Russian guard, trying to draw his attention from the other guard, trying to buy herself some more time, “You’re Russian?” She asked him, although it was obvious he was.

“Born in St. Petersburg.” He said with a nod and a proud smile. She recognized the smirk- people from there were always wanted to talk about how great it was, how it was the best part of Russia. She wasn’t sure she agreed.

But she still nodded along, a pleasant smile on her face. Her Russian returned naturally without her even having to consider it, “Петербург красив летом.” – _Petersburg is beautiful in the summer._

His smile grew even larger at that, “You’re Russian as well.” He raised his eyebrows, “You _must_ be the Black Widow after all.”

Unknowingly, he was giving her more information too. They were in Russia, why would he be surprised to meet another Russian here? She predicted that HYDRA was most likely working with Germans and Americans- those were their usual suspects.

Natasha stepped even closer, noticing that his stance shifted in anticipation and excitement at her proximity, “What do I have to do to convince you that I’m being truthful?” She was at arms-length with him. In four moves, she could have them both dead, but she held back. She still didn’t know where she was going down here.

The Russian guard was smiling broadly, looking to be more entertained now, but the first guard was still skeptical. He handed her the card back, “We have to check upstairs first.”

“Look,” Natasha started before he could walk away, “I’m supposed to be going to the training building anyway. Can we continue this conversation there?”

The Russian guard nodded a little bit too quickly for her liking, “I’ll take her myself.” His smile made her tense, but she’d dealt with men like this before, men that were obviously enamored with her appeal. She knew how to use it. She knew how to keep it from getting to her.

“We’ll go together.” The other guard interjected, obviously uncomfortable leaving them to walk on their own. She was silently thankful, although now she’d have to take them both out at some point.

As a trio, they began walking down the tunnel. At the split, they made a right.

At the end of this stretch of tunnel, there was another ladder with two more guards standing at the bottom of it. They were less armed and much more casual, making her think that they were not as high up in the hierarchy as the first two guards.

Behind them, she hoped that was the ladder that would lead them up to the building where the children were, but had no way to be sure. It would blow her cover to ask directly so she decided to keep going with what she had.

_“You okay…freezing…report back…”_ Steve’s voice rang in her ears, but it was breaking up. She assumed it was because she was underground. It suddenly became clear to her that the guards didn’t have earpieces either- that was why they had to physically go upstairs to check with their higher-ups.

Even though she wanted to give them some assurance, she didn’t respond in any way to Steve’s attempt to contact her. They’d get their answer soon enough. 

“Awful lot of guards down here when it doesn’t look like there’s much foot traffic.” Natasha commented thoughtfully as she gestured forward towards the waiting guards, “Very Russian.” She flashed a smile at the Russian guard.

He returned it silently. He obviously seemed to relate to her the most, out of all the guards. “We’re down here to protect the compound from people like you.” He said, but he was still smiling, “Didn’t you guys hear? We’ve been graced by the presence of the Black Widow this evening.”

One of the other guards stepped forward, narrowing his eyes, “Oh, I’ve heard of her.” His gaze lingered on her chest before moving downwards over the rest of her, “All good things, of course.” His smile was too alluring.

But Natasha went along with it, “Good things?” She offered a soft smile, pursing her lips to make them more noticeable, “I guess I’ll have to live up to my reputation then.”

His smile grew.

She looked around the tunnel again, lifting her shoulders, displaying confidence as all their eyes rested on her, “Your security seems flawed. Why station you guys here when all the real threats are up there?” She pointed upwards.

The first guard from before was still defensive, “We use these tunnels to go back and forth between the training and intel buildings. We don’t want the important people walking up there.”

“Well how did you guys get stuck with this gig?” She looked between the guards before her gaze landed on the first guard. It seemed like he would be the most irritated with her comments, “The higher-ups got something against you?”

He shook his head, quick to be defensive again, “They put us down here because they can’t afford to have the buildings full of guards. They only station us at the doors of the buildings or down here in the tunnels. But everyone wants to be down here. Like I said, this is where the important people and the important information go.” His tone was condescending, but also insecure. She knew he was telling the truth, but she’d obviously touched on a sore spot.

Natasha nodded slowly as she took in the information, acting like she was thinking more on it. “Guess you guys aren’t concerned with rats and moles then if you don’t have guards inside. Especially in the training building.”

“We don’t have to worry about that.”

Natasha had a feeling she knew what he meant by that even though she wished she didn’t. Brainwashing, mind control, blackmail- she was familiar with the methods that Russian organizations used- she was a product of them.

“So what’s she even doing here?” One of the other guards called from the end of the tunnel. He glossed over her, letting the other guards speak for her, which annoyed her- but she kept her mouth curved into a slight smile.

“She claims she’s here to help out with training.” The first guard nodded toward the ladder, “But we aren’t sure if the story checks out or not. One of you, go up there and ask the trainers.”

So it was confirmed. The ladder extending directly ahead of her was the one she was looking for. Finally, things could get a little bit more interesting. She wasn’t sure why she was excited, but her heart rate picked up. Those that knew her well may have even noticed her smile deepen, but she doubted the guards were that perceptive.

Following orders, the guard who hadn’t spoken yet turned toward the ladder and grabbed one of the rungs, getting ready to head up.

“Before you go…” Natasha spoke up, causing the man at the ladder to pause, “They gave me a code to identify myself with. They won’t believe it’s actually me unless you give it to them.” She offered up a cryptic smile, one that she was used to giving, “Comes with the territory, I guess.” She added with a casual shrug.

The guards looked at each other, each of them unsure about the validity of it. The guard by the ladder looked the most apprehensive, appearing to be the least experienced out of the rest of them. Because they didn’t dismiss her immediately, she took a few steps toward him.

“Keep your hands up.” The guard from behind her demanded- she heard him lift his gun to be aimed at her, “I don’t want to see them move at all.”

Natasha nodded obediently as she lifted her arms into his view. This was going to be tricky, but she had a plan. Holding her hands by her ears, she stepped even closer to the guard. He lowered his own gun so that she could move even closer.

Mistake.

_Don’t ever disarm yourself._

She was standing directly in front of him now, their bodies almost touching. There was sweat on his forehead, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of her presence or not. He tried to keep his eyes steady, but her own piercing gaze made his falter. It was clear that he had no idea what to expect from her- was there apprehension in his eyes, or maybe even excitement?

She leaned in towards his ear, feeling the eyes of the other men burning into her back. She positioned herself in a very specific way, the only way that would give her an advantage; her hand hovered dangerously near his shoulder, but the other guards were blocked from being able to see that clearly.

She paused and then, in a breath of a whisper, she said, “Do you know why they call me the Black Widow?”

He shook his head ever so slightly, his breath heavy and nervous.

Her hand was still in the air, but she had turned in a way that her wrist was only a few inches from his neck. “The _bite_.” She breathed before putting her hand on his neck. Barely twitching her other thumb, she hit the button that would activate her bracelets.

“Woah, buddy!” She exclaimed as she felt it quietly shock his neck, “Help! I think he’s gonna pass out.” She said as his eyes rolled back from being stunned and he started to fall to the ground.

She acted like she was trying to hold him up, but as the other guard came up from behind her to help, she lunged backwards and elbowed him in the face.

The guard who’d been shocked hit the ground with a stiff thud.

In that same instant, still living in the space that momentary surprise had bought her, she spun around and threw one of her small taser disks at one of the other two guards. It barely missed being a direct hit to his chest, landing on his shoulder, but that was enough.

He fell to his knees, disoriented.

Three of the four guards were stunned for the moment, so she was able to pull her batons out from her sleeves. With the split second she had to spare, she surveyed the situation.

There were two guards behind her- one who had been elbowed in the face and was quickly recovering, and the first guard she’d shocked, who was out for good- he seemed to have been rendered unconscious because of how close in proximity she’d been able to get to him.

The Russian guard was ahead of her to the right, breathing heavily to cope with the shock that her disk had given him.

But to her left, the defensive guard from before, who had now been proved right, hadn’t been disarmed at all. He turned his gun in her direction and tried to fire, but she was too close- and too quick.

Covering the few feet between them, she charged towards him. He fired twice behind her before she was able to hit the gun out of his hands and send it skidding across the concrete.

Behind her, the Russian guard fired a few shots. He must have gotten his hands on a gun after overcoming the shock from the disk, but luckily for her, he wasn’t able to get a clear hit because she was so close to the other guard.

But still, she couldn’t let him continue firing. Thinking quickly, she twisted so that she was behind the defensive guard. She held her baton against his neck to restrain him and then, lurching over him for a moment, she sent the other baton flying toward the Russian guard.

He didn’t seem concerned by it- it was just a harmless stick to him. In fact, he reached out to catch it before it collided with his side. However, the moment it hit his hand, she hit the button on her thumb again.

Both of the batons lit up in a brilliant blue light. The guard in front of her lurched and she threw him forward to the ground, protected from being shock herself because of the bracelets Stark had designed for her. For good measure, she dropped a taser disk down onto his back – which shocked him until he laid still.

As for the Russian guard, he’d let go of the baton the moment it had charged, but it had still looked to have caused a significant amount of pain to his hand. Taking that advantage, Natasha advanced towards him with the other baton, kicking his gun away and then delivering a swift hit with her other baton directly to his stomach. Instantly, it lit up again with the same intense electricity from before.

He mumbled the Russian word for bitch as he shook from the stun.

Behind her, she heard footsteps and turned just in time to see that the guard she’d elbowed in the face was about to deliver a punch. She ducked before it landed, but the Russian guard she’d just finished with hadn’t given up. He helped the other guard out by tripping her as she tried to turn.

She lost her balance, but used the momentum from the fall to roll across the ground and get away from them. The other guard advanced again, using the opportunity to get in a quick punch. Her head whipped to the side and she immediately tasted blood.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him position to deliver another punch, but she was quicker. He swung, rather clumsily, and she rolled out of the way again and got to her feet. Seeing that he was in a hunched over position after narrowly missing his aimed punch, she climbed onto his back and wrapped her legs around his neck.

“If you wanted to do this, all you had to do was ask.” He quipped.

But she wasn’t amused.

She brought one of her batons down on his shoulder, causing him to lean forward. She used that momentum to twist off of him, pull him to the ground, and slam his head against the concrete. He began to push himself up again, desperation and anger in his eyes, but she moved quickly, getting behind him and wrapping her metal wire around his neck. After pulling for a few moments, he finally stopped struggling.

She let him fall to the ground, taking in a few deep breaths before dropping the metal wire and scanning the room again.

To her dismay, the Russian guard from before was getting to his feet now, but she was done playing games. He looked like he was done too- his eyes thick with determination and frustration.

“Traitor.” He spat in Russian.

She shook her head and spit blood onto the floor, glaring at the final guard, “No.” She paused, “Avenger.”

He didn’t react to her words at all- his strides appearing strong and confident as he charged towards her, but he was unprepared when she swung first. Her fist collided with his face while she brought her other arm around to hit his stomach, but due to his larger stature, it didn’t seem like her punches were doing much to faze him.

He only grunted though, sending a counterattack almost instantly.

She was able to duck under it, but he’d anticipated that, immediately prepared with a second swing. When it collided with her side, she was sure something broke. Her chest throbbed; it was most likely a broken rib.

But she didn’t let it slow her down.

He was larger so she had to be quicker.

Anticipating his moves, she twisted out of the way from his hits. His swings were large, sloppy, but powerful. He landed another hit on her shoulder, almost completely knocking her off balance, but she recovered quickly, noticing that one of his legs was vulnerable. She attacked, kicking it as it was already bent.

His balance faltered and she took that opportunity to advance forward, kneeing him in the stomach and landing a few punches across his face. He tried to hit her back, but he’d lost his leverage. He needed to re-establish his balance first.

But she wouldn’t let him.

She was angry now, but she kept her composure. Skillfully, she grabbed his left arm and twisted it backwards to incapacitate him. He turned to alleviate the pressure- she was about to break his arm- but when he did, she elbowed him in the face. Not satisfied with that, she spun around, landing another kick to the face.

He was still struggling. He pulled her other leg out from under her after she kicked and then started to crawl on top of her.

But she kicked backwards before he could fully pin her down, hitting him directly between the legs. He let out a loud groan, bringing both hands down to protect his most sensitive area.

Turning around, she reached upwards and wrapped her arms around his neck. He struggled, but she had leverage, and as he got in a few last Russian curse words, she ended it.

Finally, she had a moment to breathe.

Taking in stock of her injuries, she moved off of the Russian guard to sit tiredly on the ground. Now that she was finally alone, she tried to contact the team, “All clear down here, do you guys read me?” She spoke out loud.

All she got was static in return.

Remembering what she’d heard before, she forced herself to her feet, her ribs aching in the process. She held her side tenderly, making her way over to the ladder. She was definitely going to have some bruises to look at tomorrow- maybe she could show them to Clint- he always appreciated them.

After grabbing one of the guns off of the ground, she began to climb up the ladder. Her right hand ached as she grabbed each rung, she must have sprained or fractured it with one of her punches. But she had larger things to worry about.

According to the guard she’d just spoken to, there weren’t going to be guards at the other side of the ladder, but she still didn’t know _what_ to expect to walk into.

As she went up the ladder, she tried again, “Anybody there?”

A few moments of static passed before, “ _Nat?”_

She guessed she was high enough up on the ladder now to be getting signal from them, “Hey Cap. We’re all clear down here. Come down the first tunnel and make a right and then another right at the end of the second. Follow the light and you’ll find where I am.”

_“On it._ ” He replied- his voice purposeful and determined (A quality that it usually had regardless of the circumstances).

Natasha was practically at the top of the ladder though. She figured it couldn’t hurt to get a look at what they were working with before the rest of the team got there. There was a hatch at the top, “I’m gonna go ahead and check out the entrance we’re looking at.”

“ _Wait for us, Nat. We’re on our way.”_

But she was already turning the knob on the hatch. After a few turns, it was ready to be pushed open. Quietly, she pushed upwards and gently opened it, trying to be as subtle as possible.

Poking her head out, she saw that it opened in some kind of boiler room area, which made sense because that should be the lowest floor of the building. She scanned the room, finding that it was completely empty, but she could see a staircase that was lit a few yards away. She guessed that if people were to come, it’d be from that direction.

The children had to be at least one or two floors up. Based on what she knew, they would most likely be on a higher floor so that they couldn’t escape through the windows – if they had any intentions to.

_If you jump, you die. Even if you survive the fall, you won’t survive what follows._

The voices were intense, vivid- she hadn’t heard them in years. What was it about this mission, this place? She knew the answer, but didn’t want to confront what that meant.

Below her, she heard other voices, _real voices,_ that grounded her back in reality.

She climbed down so that she could see into the tunnel again. Approaching from the other end, she saw the rest of the team walking towards her, dripping from the melting snow.

“Took you long enough!” Sam exclaimed, brushing some ice off of his shoulder, “My feet are still thawing out.”

Natasha smirked. He was always trying to lighten the mood- she could tell that he was only half-joking this time though, “I had to get the information we came for.” She shrugged, “It took a little bit more _conversation_ than I expected.”

Clint looked around the scene, admiring her handiwork, as he always did, “Doesn’t look like you talked much.” He stepped over one of the bodies carefully, lowering his bow as he realized he wouldn’t need to use it.

Sam bent over and picked up one of the discarded guns.

“Good work, Nat.” Steve said with a respectful nod, “What are we looking at up there?”

She nodded upward, “Opens up into a boiler room in the bottom floor. There were no guards up there. According to what one of these guys said, they only station them down here in the tunnel and at the external doors of the buildings.”

Steve nodded, contemplating what he was going to say before starting, “Okay. Let’s head up. We stay in our teams. Sam, you’re outside with me. We’re clearing a path for the kids to get to the rescue team. They’re on their way so we gotta move fast. They’ll be tipped off on what we’re intending to do pretty soon.” He turned to the rest of them, “You guys head inside and find the kids. Lead them out to us.” He paused- _hesitating_ , “And after that, Nat and I are gonna head back there and look for intel…on Bucky.”

The team nodded.

Natasha figured he must have filled them in while she was gone, “Steve.” When he looked over at her, she continued, “The guards said they didn’t have any security stationed inside because no one was going to turn on them. At best, they’ve been converted, they believe what they’re being sold. At worst, they’re brainwashed – by torture or by something more scientific.” She shook her head, “Either way, what if the kids don’t want to leave?”

Steve took in a breath, looking troubled by the experience that was in her voice, “Then we neutralize the trainers and the kids if they’re a threat too. And then we shut everything down. Destroy whatever technology they’re using.”

Natasha nodded quickly. That sounded like a pretty good plan, but she still had an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach: dread.

She usually never got like this before missions, but this one hit a little bit too close to home- both literally and emotionally. The language, the culture, the brainwashing, all of it.

She hated being reminded of her past and this might as well have been a scrapbook dedicated to it. She thought of the dark hallways, the feeling of her face hitting the concrete floor, the fear in the other girls’ eyes as they walked down the staircase every morning. Her stomach turned.

Behind her, Steve and Sam began climbing up the ladder.

Clint made his way over to her, approaching slowly, carefully, “Take a hit?”

Natasha hadn’t even realized that she still had a tender hand placed over her side. She looked over at Clint, “See the big one over there?”

He turned to look at the dead Russian guard, “He’s almost bigger than Steve.”

“Yea, not the best fighter though.” She said with a half-hearted smirk, “But he did get in a few good hits.” Her voice lacked its usual energy and she knew that, but she couldn’t help it. Especially not when talking to Clint.

He nodded slowly, offering up his own smile- wide and well-meaning, “Does that mean I get to call the shots on this mission?”

“Not a chance.” Natasha replied with her own a small smile. She knew she should have said more, offered up a little bit more banter, but she couldn’t muster up the energy or the attitude to do it.

Clint stepped forward so that he was directly facing her now, “You sure you’re okay?”

Wanda started going up the ladder behind them.

“I’m okay, Clint.” She responded, turning around towards the ladder. But she knew it was too short of a response because he shook his head, turning towards the ladder too.

“No, look, if you’re hit that bad, we got this.” He gestured to Wanda, “I don’t want you to over-do it.” He poked her lower side and moved up slowly, trying to find the spot where she’d been hit.

When he got there, she winced, but shook her head, “That’s not it, Clint.” She looked at him, trying to convey what she was feeling without saying too much, “It’s not the fight or the bruises, it’s the place.”

Clint looked even more concerned then, “What do you mean?”

Natasha took in a stifled breath, her side protesting to it. She wanted to tell him, she really thought about it for a second, but knew it would be too much, especially at a time like this, “You know I hate Russia.” She muttered, “Let’s go.”

She could tell he didn’t want to end the conversation there, but she had already started going up the ladder. Her adrenaline had worn off a little bit, leaving her body throbbing dully from her previous fight.

She emerged from the hatch just in time to see Cap and Sam heading up the staircase she’d seen earlier. Standing a few feet from the hatch, Wanda was waiting, hands glowing gently red, “Finally.”

Natasha smirked, pulling herself out of the hatch with a little bit of a struggle, “Clint wouldn’t stop running his mouth.” She teased.

“Hey!” Clint protested, coming out behind her, “That’s the last time I get concerned about you.”

Natasha cocked her gun, “Let’s go. Stay close. The kids are on one of the upper floors so let’s move up and clear each floor one at a time.”

Clint nodded quickly, his mood changing with hers. He was always so perceptive. Without even having to go through a conversation with him, she knew that he was on the same page. He began moving swiftly towards the stairs ahead of them, bow drawn. 

Wanda and Natasha followed him.

They went up the stairs with stealth, trying not to draw too much attention to themselves. When they got to the main floor, they went down the first hallway they saw. From what they could tell, it seemed pretty empty.

Several rooms lined the hallway they were going down, but they all seemed deserted. In fact, the entire building seemed abandoned and unkept, not to mention that the structure looked outdated to begin with, meaning even if the Russians had wanted to use any of the rooms, they would have had to pay for some major renovations. Which they most definitely did not do.

Finally, they could see the hallway was going to lead them out to the main part of the floor. As they walked out into the open, Natasha felt uneasy. This was too simple, too quiet. Had it been this easy for Cap and Sam too? 

“Cap?” Natasha asked, hoping to get into contact with them.

They didn’t get anything back from either of them.

“Cap? Sam? What’s going on out there?” Clint tried next.

They walked further out into main floor. It was hard to see much because there were so many large crates being stored in the room, blocking their view, but also concealing them at the same time.

“ _We’re a little bit…occupied.”_ Steve’s voice finally said, surprising each of them, “ _We’re completely swamped out here.”_

Clint and Natasha exchanged a look. This couldn’t be right.

Clint pulled an arrow out. It had a larger part on the end of it and as he pulled it back quietly to shoot it, it began beeping. He shot it across the room, to the part that they didn’t have a very good visual on.

It exploded on impact, creating a small flash of light and a large bang.

Almost immediately, shots began ringing out on the other side of the room. That answered their question. They were most likely surrounded in every direction except the one they’d just come from.

But hopefully Hawkeye’s shot had just changed that.

Seeing some of the guards rushing towards where the explosion had just come from, Wanda, Clint, and Nat used that diversion to run to the left behind a nearby crate. They had to get to another staircase that would take them up.

They ran forward, trying to take cover behind the large crates when they could.

But it wasn’t enough.

Finally, they came into contact with a few Russian guards. But they didn’t look like they’d been expecting to come into contact with anyone either so when they paused, Natasha and Hawkeye shot without hesitation. Within a few moments, they were dead, but now, the rest of the people in the building knew their location.

Two more men approached from the left and out of the corner of her eye, Natasha could see several more coming up behind them.

Natasha shot one of the two that were coming at them from the left. But the other had a gun too and began shooting relentlessly at them. Luckily, Wanda put her hand up in time to block the bullets.

In the other direction, a flash of red sent three men flying against a wall.

Natasha had almost forgotten how powerful Wanda was, but she was quickly reminded. As movements of scarlet took care of the man that had been shooting at them, Natasha covered Wanda’s back, taking down an approaching guard while running at the another, who didn’t shoot in time.

Kicking his gun out of his hand, she bent down and swept his feet out from under him. While he was down, she gave him another swift punch so that he wouldn’t get up. Picking up his gun, she shot to her left without looking and another man fell.

Behind his body, she spotted the staircase. She turned to see how Clint and Wanda were doing, but now, they were almost fully surrounded. They were holding their own pretty well with Wanda easily sweeping away large quantities of men and Hawkeye shooting them when it was possible. They made a great team.

Natasha moved to join them again, but as she stood, Clint met her eyes, “Go!” He yelled, gesturing to the stairs, “We’ll hold down the fort here.”

She wanted to stay with them, so she hesitated for a moment, until Wanda turned too, “Go!” She exclaimed before sending another guy flying.

Natasha didn’t waste another moment. She turned around and ran for the stairs. Another man tried to approach her near the doorway, but she threw a taser in his direction. Without even making sure that he fell to the ground, she launched up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

When she got to the second floor, she jogged down the hall, her side twinging with each step, but her adrenaline got her through it.

The hallways of the second floor were empty, just like they’d seen on the first floor. She was apprehensive when she approached a large room, but she entered with her guns drawn. Moving quickly through the room, she made sure to stay with her back against a wall. Unlike the floor below, though, this room was empty.

She headed back to the stairs, hoping for better luck on the next floor. As she climbed the stairs, she realized that the third floor was the final one.

This meant that the kids had to be there.

Natasha entered the floor as quietly as possible, even trying to make her footsteps silent. She moved through the halls, checking each room, but she didn’t have much luck with the first few.

On the second hallway, she peered into the first room she came to and saw that it was filled with bunk beds, but there were no children in them. It was the morning; they had probably been woken up at dawn- maybe they were training.

The next door looked to be some sort of abandoned common area- comfortable chairs and tables scattered across the room. After that, the next couple rooms she came across looked like they were more updated. There appeared to be some sort of medical equipment inside; large, updated contraptions suspended over steel tables – each one having straps on it, which she assumed were used to hold the kids down during procedure.

She wondered distantly if these rooms were used for _graduation ceremonies_.

But she moved on quickly, approaching the largest, most central part of the floor again. Looking ahead, she cocked her gun quietly and scanned the area. It looked like this was definitely where the kids were trained. There were several different kinds of equipment scattered throughout the room. From the targets for shooting that had been used so recently they still had bullet holes in them to ropes, metal wires, and knives that were discarded all across the area, it looked intimidating. And familiar.

But it also looked empty.

Where were the kids?

“ _What’s it looking like in there guys?”_ Steve’s voice asked, “ _We got a path cleared, but we need to hurry.”_

“ _We’re waiting on an update from Nat about the kids.”_ Clint replied.

Natasha sighed and started to reply but was interrupted by a sudden stinging pain in the intersection of her neck and shoulder. She gasped, but a hand immediately went over her mouth, effectively silencing her. She felt a large body behind her.

But before she could retaliate, her body completely relaxed, and she blacked out to the sound of Clint and Steve talking about even more guards coming.


	3. Chapter 3

When she came to, her entire body was aching. She wasn’t sure if it was from any new injuries she’d sustained or from the fight she’d had in the tunnel. Her side was particularly bothersome, but that was mostly because her arms were tied uncomfortably behind her back.

Turning her head, she looked over the room. She appeared to be in one of the medical rooms she had seen earlier. The lights were dimmed, but that didn’t keep the room from feeling ominously sterile.

Looking at the steel table in front of her, her heart rate immediately picked up. For a moment, she was back there, strapped to a metal gurney of her own, watching the lights on the ceiling speed by as they brought her into a room very similar to this.

Even the air felt the same- still and toxic.

It overwhelmed her, and enveloped her, until she couldn’t see anything except for the horrifying contents of her memories.

In a panic, she tried to shake them away, to unhear the sound of her own scream ringing in her ears, to stop herself from spiraling. But within seconds, she was completely lost to the past.

Breathing heavily, she saw the doctors leaning over her again, felt the tears streaming down her face before they put her under- nothing could tell her it wasn’t real. No one could ground her.

She couldn’t breathe. Feeling nauseous, she leaned to the side and threw up on the ground next to her chair.

_Don’t let it get to you._ _This mission is too important for you to lose control. Leave it in the past,_ she told herself.

She took a few moments to breathe.

The room faded back in.

Along with the silence.

She had to get out of here.

Although it was uncomfortable, she twisted, trying to move the chair, but it was nailed to the ground. Her legs were tied to the wood too, restricting her movement even further.

She was trapped, not only physically, but emotionally – in a hell that she’d been trying to escape from her entire life.

“Can anyone hear me?” She tried, hoping she’d be able to get into contact with her team.

All she got in reply was silence. She wasn’t sure if it was because someone had messed with her earpiece or because the rest of the team was dead. She hoped it was the former.

“Glad to see you’re awake.” A voice with a thick Russian accent said from behind her.

She turned her head to see a large man entering the room from a doorway behind her. He looked familiar. Smiling with a swollen lip, she realized he was a Russian guard from the tunnel, the one she’d thought she killed.

She immediately noticed the dark red marks on his neck, the ones that she’d left after their fight. How had he survived that?

He must have noticed the surprise that spread across her face because his own lit up with amusement and intrigue, “You thought I was dead?” He asked with a smirk as he took a seat in the chair across from her, “No, only choked unconscious. You did put up quite a fight. We would expect nothing less from one of our Red Room graduates.”

She narrowed her eyes, remaining silent, waiting for him to continue.

He held his arms out, “You don’t recognize me?”

Natasha stared at him, but it didn’t ring any bells. She never forgot faces, especially of men like him, _threats_ like him.

He didn’t seem surprised by that, “Well maybe you remember this.” He pulled his sleeve up, revealing a long scar extending up his forearm from his wrist to the inside of his elbow. It looked old, like it had happened a long time ago, painful and deadly.

Natasha suddenly saw a flash of herself, age 12, back fighting in one of the training rooms.it was Russia, maybe Moscow, she couldn’t be sure.

There was a visitor, they’d told her. He was going to break in, he was going to steal some of their intel. She was tasked with stopping him. This would be her way to prove herself.

_Show us what you can do, darling…_

He was large, clumsy, looking to be about 20. She intercepted him easily in a dark hallway towards the back of one of their buildings. A quick fight ensued, one that she barely remembered, many of the fights blurred together.

But what she did recall was one particularly sickening blow. With a knife that she’d pulled at the last second, she’d spotted his exposed arm and pulled the blade up his forearm from his wrist, intending to kill.

She only remembered blood after that. Soaking her clothes, covering her arms and her face. Her bosses had welcomed her back proudly, a champion, but all she felt was dirty.

“That was you.”

He nodded, seeing the recognition in her eyes, “I am Viktor.” He pointed to himself, “I was there that day to become a trainer.”

She tilted her head.

“They told you I was a thief. In earnest, they just wanted to test my abilities, which was probably an intelligent move, considering you beat me. At twelve years old.” He shrugged, but couldn’t hide the fact that he was impressed, “No matter, I survived your attempt on my life and they went on to hire me some years later after I’d _proved_ myself.”

She didn’t want to guess what that had entailed.

Viktor rubbed his hands together, “You’re probably wondering why I spared your life. Why I didn’t repay the favor that you’ve tried to deal me twice now.” He smirked, obviously enjoying the suspense that he was putting her through, the power that he had over her, “Well, it’s simple, _Natasha_.” He leaned in, “We need you.”

“I don’t work for you.” She replied plainly.

Viktor moved suddenly, bringing a powerful fist against her face. She felt her lip hit one of her teeth and immediately split open, filling her mouth with blood.

Before she could even react, he landed a second punch in her stomach, aggravating her already broken rib. She coughed, trying to catch her breath.

“Are you ready to listen?” He asked, staring down at her.

Natasha, in the effort of self-preservation, gave a small nod as she spit some blood onto the floor. Her right eye could barely stay open now, she didn’t think she could take another hit.

Viktor sat back down in front of her, “You’ll always be a product of Red Room. We made you what you are. And we own the person you’ve become.” He raised his eyebrows, “You’ll _always_ work for us.”

Natasha wasn’t willing to let that go. They couldn’t take her back- she wouldn’t let them, “Maybe in the past, not now.” She shook her head, “Kill me if you want to, but I’m not yours anymore.” She would rather be dead than work for them again.

Viktor smiled and she expected him to lunge at her again. But instead, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. The technology looked pretty advanced, something similar to a handheld Tony would use.

He used it to project files and images on the wall, “Look what you’ve done, Natasha, you wouldn’t want your team to see this, would you?” He moved from image to image.

She blinked as the images scrolled by, her expression stony. It suddenly became clear that he must be some kind of sadist. The blackmail was their real angle- roughing her up was entirely unnecessary. He did it for himself. She couldn’t be back in this, back with people like him.

And blackmail was a weak plan, “You think blackmail is going to work with me? I live with what I’ve done every single day.” She paused, truly believing what she was saying, finally reveling in it, accepting all the things she’d done, “Getting the truth out there might even help me.”

Viktor narrowed his eyes and flipped forward by a few more images, “Does _this_ classify as blackmail?”

Natasha had trained herself not to react. Her face remained a blanket of calm even though her stomach was turning, “How did you-”

“Does it matter how?” He held his arms out.

Natasha didn’t reply, only raised her eyebrows confidently, although her mind was racing. No one knew about that. She thought she’d been thorough. It was never supposed to be discovered and she wasn’t going to let it get out now, “You’re not going to release that.”

“We’re not?” He asked, staring at her expectantly.

She shook her head, “If that gets out, we’re all going down. You and I. The Red Room. All of it, up in flames.” Her eyes were full of resolve, “I know the Red Room well enough to know they wouldn’t risk that.” 

“The Red Room isn’t what it used to be. In fact, we’re under _new_ leadership, leadership not associated with what you’ve done.” Viktor replied coolly, “Now, you’re going to listen to me. Because I’m only going to say this once.” He sat down in front of her, “We need US intelligence. As an Avenger, you will infiltrate their systems, get everything, and then…we want you to disappear.” He paused when she didn’t comment, “We hear everything, Natasha, don’t forget that. If you betray us…you’ll have to deal with consequences of your own actions.” He gestured to the screen.

Natasha looked at the screen, for the first time considering what would happen if the world knew, if her team knew. She could only accept so much about herself, live with so much. There were still things that she wanted to remain in the dark, “Intelligence, that’s all you want?”

Viktor smiled sinisterly. He looked like he was enjoying every moment of this, like it was some sort of sweet revenge that he could finally repay her, “That’s it.” He gestured back at the screen, “Can we count on you, Romanoff?”

_You can’t trust me. But you can count on me._

Natasha didn’t break eye contact with him, “I will only exchange whatever I get for _those files._ You don’t get anything unless I get every last copy.”

Viktor thought for a moment, “That can be arranged.” He replied, “Now, let’s get you back to your team.” He moved out of her view, undoing the handcuffs that had been restraining her.

She could attack, end it right now…

But she knew the Red Room.

And even though she thought about engaging Viktor again and winning this time, she knew they probably had back-ups of her information and people waiting on standby in case she put up a fight, ready to murder her and her friends (if they were still alive at all).

So, without a word, she just let him pull her out of the chair. He led her down the hallway back to the staircase, “We have to make it look like you’ve been through hell, don’t we, huh?” He said with a smirk.

Natasha saw him rear back and she ducked just in time to be missed by another one of his punches, “It looks believable enough.” She glared up at him.

He stared down at her, memories lighting up in his eyes. Again, she could tell that this wasn’t a part of the mission, “Well, maybe this is just personal, then.” He said with a smirk as he kicked her in the stomach, sending her backwards down the flight of stairs.

As she went down, her leg was the first thing to collide with one of the concrete steps and she felt her ankle twist in an odd direction, sending a twinge of pain up her calf.

Luckily for her, the staircase took a turn there, so she only hit the ground one more time when she reached the bottom of that stretch of stairs and collided with the wall. There were still quite a few more stairs to go down, but since they turned a corner, extending to her right, she hadn’t fallen down them.

She looked back up from where she’d just come from and found the staircase empty.

Viktor was already gone.

Natasha, with shaking arms, tried to lift herself off the ground, but she wasn’t sure that her body could take it. She was in shock. To her right, she saw guards running down the hallways, but they didn’t stop to engage with her. She didn’t know if that was because they knew that she was working with them now or because she wasn’t much of a threat at all in this state.

Amidst the action swirling around her, she took a few seconds to breathe. She couldn’t be in this godforsaken building for one more minute. Groaning quietly, she used her arms to get herself on all fours before reaching forward and grabbing the railing of the staircase. This stretched out her side, causing her to gasp out in pain.

But she didn’t stop.

Pulling one leg out from under her, she was able to stand, even if unbalanced. Her leg was okay, a little bit banged up, but functional. Her left ankle, however, was definitely worse off. Standing on it was uncomfortable, but not entirely excruciating. It was probably sprained, fractured at most, or at least that’s what she told herself. But it didn’t matter. She was gonna have to walk on it either way.

Leaning against the railing, she pulled her earpiece out of her ear. She thought they’d broken it, but upon taking a closer look, she could see that it was just switched off.

This was probably purposeful. They wanted her to reunite with her team- not get lost or killed before she had a chance to get any intel. It was all part of their plan.

Turning it back on, she re-inserted it into her ear.

And was immediately bombarded with voices.

“ _…falling back, but we can’t just leave those kids behind.”_ It was Steve’s voice.

“ _We don’t even know if there **are** kids at this point. We still haven’t heard back from Nat.” _Clint’s voice rang out next, “ _We gotta get up there and see what happened to her. She could be dead, Cap. It’s been an hour.”_

“ _Get up there then! She’s not dead.”_ Steve replied.

“ _We’re completely surrounded, we have been for a while. Wanda is down. She’s unconscious. I can’t go anywhere. The only reason we’re not both dead already is because we’ve got the higher ground.”_

“Cap? Clint?” Natasha finally said, her voice sounding weak, and hoarse, even to her own ears.

“ _Nat?!”_ Clint exclaimed, “ _Where the **hell** have you been? Are you okay?”_

“The upper floors were swamped. Barely got out. There are no kids, this must’ve been a trap. We need to get out of here.” Natasha replied, the lies coming easily to her.

“ _Damn it!”_ Steve exclaimed, “ _Sam, let’s head in. Ditch the guards out here. We can help them inside.”_

_“Will do.”_ Sam replied.

Just then, one of the passing guards noticed her standing against the railing, “Hey!” He exclaimed, aiming his gun at her.

Maybe they didn’t know she was on their side after all. It was most likely need-to-know information. But the Red Room probably trusted her to be able to stay alive.

They were right to.

Because before the guard ahead of her could even pull the trigger, she’d whipped a taser disk towards him.

He fell to the ground immediately, giving her the opportunity to stumble down the remaining stairs and grab his gun. Her ankle protested, but again, she told herself it was more out of shock than out of actual damage.

Two more guards approached her from ahead and she shot them both instantly. It took her a few more shots than usual to hit them in the chest or head, but she did only have one open eye to work with.

She picked up another one of their guns as she went so that she had a weapon in each hand. Using the railing, she slowly made her way down another flight of stairs. When she got to the bottom, she was confronted by a crowd of guards. She didn’t bother to count them. Instead, she took action in their momentary pause. Too many people hesitated, she thought- that split-second they did was often what got them killed.

_Outside this room, no one waits for you to get up or strategize or think. Hesitate, and you’re dead._

She shot three or four of them at close range, causing them to fall. One of her guns was out of ammo then so she threw it forcefully at another one of the men. It collided with his neck and he stumbled backwards.

At that point, there were still two more guards ahead of her. One was only armed with a knife, but he was close enough to lunge towards her. And quick enough to actually catch her unprepared. He ran the blade across her stomach, leaving behind a superficial cut. It stung, but mostly just irritated her. How many times was she going to let herself get hit today?

His quick swipe was a mistake. If he was gonna get that close, he should have cut deeper.

_If you’re close enough to see the whites of their eyes, they better not live to tell of it._

She punched the closest guard in the stomach with her good hand. But her mind was working. She could see all the guards around her. And she’d get them all eventually.

_Have no mercy, child. They won’t have any for you._

As she quickly kneed the man in front of her, she lifted her right arm and shot the other guard who was across the room.

The man closest to her lunged with the knife again, but she dodged it and shot him in the stomach- from a foot away.

She hated the sound it made, but when he fell, she tried to forget about it, stealing his knife off the ground.

_Make them suffer._

She trudged forward, leaning on the wall for support as she limped down the hallway. Looking ahead, she was relieved to see Clint standing on top of one of the large crates in the room, shooting arrows down at the guards. Still fighting.

Still alive.

She wondered for a moment if Wanda was alright, but in the same instant she lost focus, a man had emerged from a doorway directly in front of her. He turned towards her in shock, lifting his gun, but she lunged forward and swept her knife across his throat.

_You will spill them out like water. A beautiful disaster._

Instantly, she felt warm liquid hit her face and when she looked down, all she saw was red.

_A stunning weapon._

The man fell, blood pouring from his throat. And her hands were soaked.

“ _Nat, where are you?”_ She heard in her ear.

But she was on her knees again, in a pool of this man’s blood. Looking from her shaking hands to the scattered bodies around her, she almost panicked. What was she doing? What was this place bringing out in her? Who was she?

_A woman, to end all men._

The Red Room had only had her back for less than an hour and she was already doing their bidding again, killing for them, stealing for them, like a meaningless puppet. A thoughtless pawn. How could she have let this happen?

_Do you know why they call me the Black Widow?_

“ _Nat!”_ Clint exclaimed.

She couldn’t move.

She couldn’t speak.

Finally, she felt a hand clutch her shoulder.

_The bite._

Involuntarily, she lunged backwards, elbowing the stranger in the chest. She heard a grunt come from behind her.

“Woah, hey, hey…Nat, it’s me.” It was Steve’s voice, angelic and pure. It was enough to make her pause.

Slowly, she turned around to face him, only able to imagine what she looked like right now. She caught a glimpse of her own reflection in his shield, but it looked mostly red.

Steve looked down at her, his stomach dropping. Not only was she entirely covered in blood from the waist down, probably from the pool of blood she was kneeling in, but her hands were also drenched in the substance.

It was so much red. Running deep and dark. He silently questioned how much of it, if any, was hers…

“Natasha…” He began, looking at the bodies around her. He wondered distantly how many guards there had been on the floors above, “Can you stand?”

Natasha gave a small nod, using her arms to push herself off the ground, but when she tried to get her legs underneath her, he could see that they were shaking, and she immediately fell forward towards him, “How could I have… _what happened?”_ She asked cryptically, which got her a half-concerned half-confused expression from Steve.

He grabbed her quickly, preventing her from falling, “Okay, you’re okay.” He told her, like he wasn’t sure what else to say, “I got her, I have Nat. Can I get some help? I’m in the main hallway.”

Steve was supporting all of her weight, which wasn’t hard for him to do. But now some guards had started coming at them again. He used the shield to block bullets from hitting them. A loud clanging noise followed.

Luckily though, that was enough to wake Natasha up. To ground her back to the reality that they were facing now.

Steve didn’t need to be holding her up- she had only needed the help getting to her feet, “Sorry- I’m good, I’m okay.” She said in Cap’s ear. She got her legs underneath her and swallowed, getting her head back on her shoulders. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, making her hyper-focused- she didn’t need to panic now- she needed to survive.

Cap threw his shield and knocked the gun out of one of the guard’s arms. Running forward awkwardly (due to her limp), Natasha got close enough to the startled guard that she was able to zap him with her bracelet.

He fell immediately to the ground and she bent over uncomfortably to pick up his gun. Beside Cap, who had armed himself now too, they shot at the incoming guards. When they saw a clearing, they advanced forward toward the larger room where Clint had now disappeared off of the crate.

Natasha could walk on her own, but not as quickly as Cap. He stayed with her though, using his shield to protect them as they moved forward. Her ankle was much more of an irritation at this point than an actual liability. If she hadn’t fallen (or been _pushed_ ) down the stairs, she would be much more effective in this fight. She looked backwards, sending a few shots towards an approaching guard, but he wasn’t hit.

Her gun was out of ammo, but she still had the knife with her. As the man charged at them, she quickly stabbed him in the stomach and used her bracelet to stun him.

He fell without another word.

But there was another guard behind him. With just one eye, she took a few extra seconds to aim and threw the knife in his direction. It plunged directly into his shoulder, bringing him to his knees.

“Nice work.” Steve commented with a small smile, “I’m surprised you’re still walking, let alone fighting like that.”

Natasha took in a deep breath, bending over another body to retrieve one of their guns, “Yea, me too.” She replied without a smile.

_You do not fall. You do not fail._

She shook the voices off, not in the mood. 

Steve noticed the shortness of her response and took the hint, focusing his own eyes forward.

She was grateful for that. Even though they weren’t exclusively partners and their relationship was much different than the one she had with Clint- he was always trying to understand her, trying to help her in any way that he could. She admired that- and honestly, right now, she accepted whatever help he could offer much more willingly than she normally would have.

More guards flooded towards them from both directions. They both raised their guns to shoot, but they could tell that they were majorly outnumbered. But they both intended to fight anyway. Beside her, she could practically _feel_ the determination radiating off of Steve. It invigorated her, livened her- they were going to do this. Together.

_Trust no one._

She physically shook her head- this wasn’t the Red Room. She would fight with Steve. She would trust him.

They raised their weapons.

However, as Natasha fired her first shot, she saw four of the guards standing ahead of her fall. In the seconds following that, the rest of them were down too.

She looked down and noticed arrows protruding from each of their bodies. At the end of the hall, she finally saw Clint making his way towards them.

They locked eyes, his own empathetic and kind, but also immensely focused.

On her- getting to her.

Something in her warmed.

He would always see through the part of her that the Red Room still owned. He would always be on her side. He’d believed in her when she’d thought it was impossible, and so she knew he always would, even when she couldn’t herself.

He always brought her back. Grounded her.

Both in this moment, and 10 years ago in Budapest.

As he reached her, he put his hands on her shoulders, “Are you alright?” He couldn’t keep the concern from his voice and for once, she reveled in it, wanting to indulge him with a teasing joke or two, but there wasn’t enough time.

Natasha had noticed he was alone, “Where’s Wanda?”

Clint nodded behind her and when she turned to look, she saw flashes of red whipping across the room, sending the men flying. Standing in the center of it all was Wanda, blood dripping down her forehead, “Let’s get out of here.” She said, gesturing towards the other hallway that would lead them to the basement stairs.

Hands still glowing red, she turned and started running in the direction she’d just pointed.

Sam landed in front of them and took off behind her.

Steve had his shield on his left arm. He wrapped the other around Natasha’s waist and started to walk, “Block us, Clint.”

Natasha limped next to Steve, “I can walk. Go ahead and make sure the rookies don’t get themselves killed.”

Steve let go of her waist. He was listening to her, taking her word for it that she was okay. He had faith in her, believed that she’d be alright. He didn’t have to say it either- she could just tell. Before he left, he smiled back at her, “The rookies didn’t do half bad, huh?”

“We aren’t out yet.”

Steve flashed his smile back at her and began jogging away, “Stay with her, Clint.” He called over his shoulder as he turned the corner, following the direction Sam and Wanda had just gone.

Clint smiled, walking beside Natasha, his bow drawn, “You gonna tell me you’re fine now?”

“I’ll keep saying I’m fine until I’m in the ground.” She almost smirked- he knew how to get it out of her. Part of her wished Steve hadn’t left. Adding him into the mix always made the banter a little bit more fun. And the feel of his arm around her waist, the security it brought, she wished she’d been more thankful of that a few minutes ago too.

_You are alone. You can’t trust them,_ the voice urged.

But she was able to push it down. She wasn’t going to let it pull her back in. She wasn’t alone. It was her memories that she couldn’t trust.

As quickly as they could, she and Clint made their way down the hallway onto the main part of the floor, weaving through the crates before finally rushing down the hall that would lead them to the stairs. They had to dodge injured and dead guards wherever they went. It looked like Wanda had cleared their path pretty well for them.

When they finally reached the staircase, Steve was waiting at the top for them, “Wanda cleared the tunnel. Let’s get out of here.”

“We haven’t gone to the other building.” Natasha said as they made their way down the stairs. Her ankle throbbed each time she was forced to put pressure on it, but it wasn’t too much to ignore, “You haven’t even gotten the intel on Bucky.”

Steve sighed, his eyes glossing over her injuries, “That’s not the primary concern, Nat.” He said when they’d finally reached the tunnel opening, “Getting out of here, that’s our mission now.”

Natasha turned around to face him. She knew that he cared- and that was why he was making this decision, but she still didn’t agree with it, “This better not be about me. I’m fine.” She said, “In fact, I’m going with you to get the intel. Cap, we’re getting what we came for.” She started going down the ladder, trying not cringe from her ankle. This was especially difficult because she had to bear all her weight on it.

When she reached the bottom, she sat down, taking a few moments to remove her belt to and wrap it around her ankle as a way to stabilize it.

“Nat, I don’t know.” Steve said apprehensively, looking her over. He seemed like he didn’t want to doubt her, but at the same time, wasn’t convinced that she was truly as okay as she was letting on. More so, he just looked conflicted, about all of it. Like he didn’t want to go through with it and put people in more danger than he already had.

But Natasha could help him with that- the guilt, “Why are we here, Steve?” She held her arms out, “We can’t leave empty-handed, especially after everything.” They didn’t even know the extent of the _everything_ that she was talking about. 

“You stay here then.”

Natasha almost smiled, but stopped herself. He was always trying to play the hero, trying to be the one to do things so that no one else could get hurt. But she just shook her head, “You need me.”

Steve paused, considering that for a moment, and then finally gave in, “You’re right.” He looked over at Clint, “Barton, you’re with us. Wanda, Sam, keep the tunnel clear. If we’re not back in 30 minutes, come up after us.”

They began walking down the tunnel to the other staircase that presumably led up to the intel building. As they walked, Natasha fell in step next to Steve. The belt around her ankle was making it a lot easier to walk, still uncomfortable, but not as bad, “Finally…” She said with a smile, “Time for us to break off.”

Steve turned towards her then- a look in his eyes that she didn’t recognize and couldn’t quite place, “You don’t have to do this.” He said, “What’s going on with you anyway? One minute you’re killing everything in sight and the next you’re so shaken up you can’t speak and now, now you’re trying to flirt with me?”

Natasha saw his point; it was a good one. Her behavior hadn’t been consistent. She could think of a number of reasons why that was the case, one of which was the partial lie that she fed him, “This place…is bringing back a lot of memories, Steve.”

_You will never be rid of us…_

He turned, intrigued at the mention of her past.

That was what she wanted. She wanted him to think she was trusting him with new information. Mostly, she just needed to restore his faith in her, “Russia, winter, I lived on the streets during a time like this… _alone_.” She paused, showing a glimpse of emotion. A glimpse that she had fully calculated for him to see, “And I witnessed and did things I shouldn’t have. Things that remind me too much of what we were just doing up there.”

_You are what they want you to be. Make them believe it._

“We were trying to survive up there, Nat.”

She looked up at him, eyebrows creased, “Everyone is.” She paused, “That doesn’t excuse our actions.”

He looked like he wanted to reply, but she didn’t let him.

“And so what if I’ve been hot and cold with you, Steve?” Her eyes flashed, “I’m human too, in case you’ve forgotten. I faced two floors of guards without you guys. I barely escaped with my life. I’m sorry if the way my emotions are being perceived isn’t my greatest concern right now.” She knew that would get him. Guilt. His dedication to his friends. Those were Steve’s weak spots. She hated exploiting them, but she had to keep him off her scent.

_You’ll make them regret their humanity, their weakness._

Steve gave a small nod, the guilt written on his face, “You’re right.” He looked over at her, “I’m sorry. You just don’t seem like yourself. I mean…you do right now.” He said with a smirk as they reached the staircase. He turned to look at her, “I’m just…I’m worried about you.”

Natasha never got used to hearing that. Steve said it, Bruce had said it. They cared about her, but that only made it harder for her to hide what she was thinking. And harder for her to deceive him now. With a shake of her head, she responded, “Don’t waste your energy.” She said as she offered up a small smirk.

Steve rolled his eyes, not looking like he wanted to brush it off, “We can talk more about this later. In fact, we should. Especially if this place is messing with your mind so much.” He looked up at the staircase, “Thank you, by the way. For coming up here with me.”

“I know how important this is to you.” Natasha replied, giving his arm a light squeeze. She really meant that. At least there was something in this conversation that she could actually tell the truth about- and it was how much she cared about him, and wanted to help him confront his past, “Plus, this trip has been kind of annoying for me already, so I’d really like to get something good out of it.”

Steve smiled, looking relieved that she was acting normal again.

This was the Natasha he was familiar with. Even though she didn’t feel much like herself, even though she felt torn apart- both mentally and physically, she kept up the façade. If there was anything she was good at, it was selling herself --- as whatever people needed to see.

Steve gestured towards the stairs with his shield, “Let’s get up there then. They’re probably trying to wipe all their systems as we speak.”

Natasha nodded, “If I were them, that’s what I’d be doing.” She turned to Sam, “Got any knives on you?”  
“Three.” He nodded with a smile, “Need them all?”  
Natasha returned it, “I’ll bring them back, I promise.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “That’s what you said last time. What happened to your baton things?” He held his arms out.

Natasha smirked, knowing he was inviting banter, but she wasn’t in the best mood for it, “Wish I knew.” She said with a shrug, even though she knew she’d lost them at some point fighting the guards in the previous building, “Thanks, Sam.”

“Good luck, you guys.” He replied, “30 minutes…and then we come up.”

Steve looked at Clint and Natasha, “Ready?”  
When they both nodded, he started up the stairs. The door at the top had a pad lock on it, but he slammed his shield against it. It broke immediately, allowing Steve to push the door open. Natasha was always surprised at how powerful vibranium could be, especially in the hands of someone as strong as him. She would hate to be on the receiving end of one of it.

Going up, they each braced themselves for another round of fighting, but when they entered, there weren’t any guards to be seen. They must have cleared the building out, or at least the basement floor.

It looked like the basement had been used to store the power sources for the rest of the building. Large generators lined the floor and from what they could see, they were still running.

“They haven’t powered everything down yet.” Steve said out loud, as authoritative and determined as ever, “We still have time.” He trudged forward without hesitation, without fear. And they followed, jogging towards the staircase. Natasha was a few strides behind them, still limping because of her ankle. At the top, again, the floor looked pretty empty, so they continued up to the second floor. The guards would have to be where the intel was, especially if there were still people trying to wipe or transfer the databases.

When they got to the second floor, they were finally met with the guards they’d been expecting. There were five waiting directly at the top of the stairs. Steve knocked two of them down by throwing his shield. Clint got the next two with two clear shots from his bow. The final guard tried to shoot at them, but Steve blocked the bullets, pushing forward, closer to him. And once they got to the top of the stairs, Steve lunged at the man, knocking him against a wall.

Natasha came up behind them, “Look.” She gestured forward. They could see down the hallway to the main part of the floor. In the center of it, there was a large circular structure. It looked like it was some kind of control room. Guards were lined along its wall, “That’s where the intel would be.”

Steve nodded in agreement, “Clint and I will go left, distract the guards and lead them towards the hallway. When you see an opening, get in there and get what you can.”

Natasha nodded, clutching the knives in her hands. She stationed herself so that her back was against the wall of the hallway. If she poked her head around the corner, she could see the guards waiting outside the control room.

Clint and Steve ran to the left, down one of the perpendicular hallways. Within a minute or so, she could hear them making a commotion on the other side of the building. Some of the guards standing by the door looked in that direction.

The guard closest to the door pointed in the direction that the noise was coming from. Following his order, half of the guards split off and left to go fight Cap and Hawkeye. That wasn’t enough. There were still at least 10 guards left and, in her state, she couldn’t take them all on at once.

“I need you guys to get closer. There’s still guards by the door.” Nat said into her earpiece.

There was a slight pause before Clint replied, “ _We’ll get closer and start taking them out. But you’ll have to move fast. There are guards coming in behind us.”_

Natasha nodded, stepping out into the hallway. The guards directly ahead of her saw her figure coming towards them, but in the same instant, two of the three of them had been shot down by arrows. Clint had the best timing. As she advanced forward, the one guard that was left raised his gun to shoot at her, but Steve’s shield knocked the gun from his arms before he could.

And Natasha was at the door by then. She stabbed the guard in the chest before using his hand to gain access to the door behind him. Throwing him out of the way, she entered the structure.

The large circular room, as she’d expected, was filled with computers. Lining the walls were large screens that she guessed were used to project maps, videos, or anything else they needed everyone to see.

There was still a team of 10 people still working, but they weren’t armed. By the time they looked up and saw her, she was already moving towards them. She grabbed the first one she got to and threw him into the man standing behind him.

The third man tried to come at her, but she swiped her knife across his stomach and then kicked him down before he could even make contact with her. Moving through the fourth and fifth members just as quickly, she approached the remaining five. Glancing to the side, the computers were already blank, except for time stamps in the bottom right corner. They had been cleared already. But definitely not destroyed. They wouldn’t just destroy everything they had.

“I know what you were here to do.” Natasha said in Russian, “Give it to me.”  
The man standing in the front stared at her, “We have nothing for you.”

Natasha looked over the group, narrowing her eyes. The three in the front didn’t break eye contact. They were trained, professional- she wouldn’t be able to get much from them. But behind them, she noticed the blonde-haired man shift slightly. He moved his hand out of his pocket, eyes flickering -for just a moment- to the side.

“I don’t believe you.” She said, shaking her head- the blonde-haired man was stationed at the back of the group- they were protecting him, protecting what he had. They’d probably do anything to stop her.

Just as she thought that, the first man charged. He looked much more confident than the ones she had faced before. He kicked her in the side. Luckily, it was the side opposite her potentially broken rib.

She quickly struck him across the face with her left hand, but he retaliated instantly by throwing her towards one of the tables. She slammed her side against it and paused, cringing from the hit.

This gave the man enough time to kick her again and bring her to her knees.

When he went to punch her another time, she slipped the other knife out of her belt and stabbed him in the thigh. A loud yell filled the room as he doubled over. But she removed it just as quickly, standing up and slicing the knife up his side to leave behind a long gash. He dropped to the ground.

Now that she was standing over him, she hit him one more time and he finally collapsed.

There were only three left now. Two of them came at her at once, but she elbowed one easily in the face while kicking the other between the legs. This gave her the space to move past them to the blonde-haired man.

But then she felt one of the previous two grab her hair from behind, pulling her backwards. He spun her around and wrapped his hands around her neck, squeezing as hard as he could.

Natasha reached for anything in sight, hoping to use it against him. But then she realized that he was standing too close. She lunged forward, her head colliding with his.

When he fell to his knees, she grabbed a keyboard lying on one of the nearby tables and whacked him across the face with it, finally knocking him unconscious.

There was no one left.

Calmly, she turned back to the blonde-haired man, blinking away residual dizziness from the headbutt.

He turned, looking like he was going to run away from her, but she still had one taser disk left. She threw it and it landed on his lower stomach.

He fell to the ground and she advanced to him, reaching into his pocket and easily finding what she was looking for – a flash drive. This had to be it. The intel that they were looking for- it was in her hand. Bucky, he might be in her hand, right now. For a moment, her heart swelled. Maybe they’d actually be able to find him.

Natasha turned around and began walking for the door, a new confidence in her step. But when she was about halfway there, a man stepped into her path- one that she hadn’t even noticed get back up.

“You thought it was going to be that easy, huh?” His face was bleeding, but the reckless anger in his eyes was much more disturbing.

She glared at him, thinking his phrasing was a bit odd.

He held his arms out, picking up on her reaction, “Why do you think we were clearing the database anyway? We have no plans of coming back here for anything. What you have with you is all that will be left.”

Natasha glanced to her right, suddenly understanding what he was saying. At the bottom right corner of every computer’s black screen, she saw a white set of numbers, which she previously hadn’t realized were counting down. There were 8 minutes left. “You won’t let this intel burn. You won’t let it die with me. There’s got to be a way out. Where is it?”

“I’d rather it be gone than in the wrong hands.” He said, moving closer to her, “And if I die for this, then I’m sure as hell gonna make sure I take you with me.” He charged at her, pushing her back.  
She took a few steps backwards in an attempt to catch herself, but tripped over one of the men she’d hit before, twisting her already irritated ankle again and hitting the ground with a harsh thud.

He straddled her then, bringing his fist down before she even had the chance to react. She lifted her arm towards him then, not to punch, but to put hand on his shoulder.

“Is that all you have left?” He asked, nodding to her hand that was sitting unthreateningly on his shoulder, doing nothing to stop him from punching her one more time. 

“Not everything.” She said as she pressed a button with her other hand that caused a shock to come out of her bracelet. He leaned backwards in shock, which gave her enough time to stab him in the stomach with the knife that she still had in her belt.

He collapsed backwards, finally leaving her alone.

But she wasn’t sure she could get up. She could barely see anymore. Faintly, she heard voices in her ear.

“ _Nat! It’s been 20 minutes. Did you get it?”_ It was Steve’s voice.

She tried to speak, but her voice was just a whisper, “…need….”

“ _Nat? We can’t hear you.”_ Clint said.

She coughed, “I need help…”

_“She said she needs help. I’m going in there, Clint….”_ She didn’t hear anything after that.

Natasha’s head was throbbing. Everything she saw was blurring in and out and all she heard was ringing in her ears.

\---

_“I have no place in the world.”_

_“Exactly.”_

_\---_

_She lifted her gun to shoot the target, hitting the site perfectly every time. They brought men in sometimes, bags over their heads. If there was any hesitation, they would fail. But no one failed. Not until they started taking the bags off. And they were forced to look into the fearful eyes of the men who already knew their fates. And the others would crumble, the others failed. But she, even then, raised her gun and aimed perfectly every time._

_\---_

_“It’s time for your graduation…”_

_\---_

_They put her in a circle with another girl. To fight. They both knew that only one of them would make it out. Without a pause, Natasha was the first to strike and in two more moves, looking into the eyes of one of her trainers, she broke her neck._

_\---_

_“You are nothing, you hear me? There’s no family out there waiting for you. There’s no **better** life. The world out there is made for humans, you are no human. You are the machine that we’ve made you. You…are… **nothing**.”_

_\---_

_They’d been taught that seduction was an asset. But flirtation only got her so far in the beginning. It had to go further. She remembered the first man. She flirted with him at a club until he got drunk and decided to take her back to his place. She laid there, unfeeling, as she experienced sex for the first time. When he was done, she stabbed him in his sleep and stole the intel that she’d been assigned to retrieve without even a tear shed for her innocence. Sex was nothing, nothing but a tool._

_\---_

_“There is always someone quicker than you, smarter than you, **better** than you.” A pause, “You have to be better than them.”_

_\---_

_She’d been undercover for months. She knew he was good man. He would never do anything to harm anyone, especially her. She imagined them getting married in another life, buying a house together, and living peacefully, unbothered by the society she’d grown to hate. But none of that mattered, it never did. When her orders changed, she shot him point blank, with no hesitation._

_\---_

_“Don’t hold back. You have to kill before you get killed.”_

_\---_

_After taking a shower at a hotel in Vienna, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Anger welled up from somewhere deep inside her and she punched the glass until her hands bled._

_\---_

_“You are your own weakness. The most skilled fighter we have seen in decades, but yet, your emotions hold you back. You have to be smarter than everyone, including **yourself**.” _

_\---_

_She remembered sleeping on the ground in a camp in Vietnam. Lying on the ground, she stared up at the sky, wondering how something so beautiful could exist in a world that was so profoundly horrible._

_\---_

_“Don’t trust anyone. The moment you do, you’re lost.”_

_\---_

“…up. Nat?” She felt someone gently touching her face, “Come on, Nat!”

She opened her eye tenderly, wondering how long she’d been out.

Steve smiled a little bit in obvious relief, seeing her regain consciousness, “You had me worried for a second there, Romanoff.” And she knew he meant that, there was sweat on his brow, and a profound, deep kind of fear in his eyes.

She just smiled but didn’t reply- she wasn’t even sure that she could. Lifting her arm up, she extended the flash drive towards him.

“You got it.” He shook his head, smiling, “And took a few of them down with you, didn’t you?”

Natasha glanced up at one of the computers. Suddenly, she remembered what the problem was, “Steve…” She coughed, “How much time is left on the computers?”

“What?”

Natasha gestured to the computer weakly with one of her hands, “There’s a bomb. It’s counting down. How much time is left?”

Steve’s eyes widened and he got up quickly, looking at the computer screen, “Damn it!” He looked down at her, eyes full of urgency, “Nat, can you stand?”

She took in a breath and with shaking arms, she pushed herself into a sitting position. Just doing that, she felt like she was going to pass out, “Cap…”

“Clint, there’s a bomb. We gotta get out of here. Nat can’t walk, we have 2 minutes…and counting.”

“Steve!” Natasha exclaimed, getting his attention.

He looked down at her. He wasn’t ready to slow down. He was ready to fight, ready to keep going, keep trying, she could see it in his eyes. He was never one to give up- but sometimes, that was too naïve.

Natasha held out the flash drive again, pressing it into his hands, “You can’t carry me out of here and fight off the rest of the guards.” She paused, “You have to leave me.”

Steve didn’t even seem to comprehend her words. He glossed right over them, like he couldn’t even bear to process what she was proposing, “I’m gonna carry you.” There was something different in his voice then:

Experience.   
She knew that he knew fear like this, that he knew what it was like to lose everything- she saw it all in his eyes. They glistened with realization and fear and denial- he couldn’t live with losing another person, not after he’d lost them all. 

But Natasha didn’t have time to comfort him. She threw the flash drive towards him, which he caught defensively, “Go, Steve! I _chose_ to come up here. I’m not your responsibility.” She urged, “In fact, you guys might be better off without me.”

Maybe being dead would be better than having to betray them. The only ones who’d taught her how to do good. The only ones that had believed in her, despite her faults. The only ones that accepted her. And cared about her. And gave her an _actual_ home. And an _actual_ family. Suddenly, her own eyes were filled. How did everything become so convoluted?

Steve knelt down on the ground. His eyes leveled with hers, a new clarity to them, a deepened resolve. He gripped her arm tightly, grounding her, almost as if he knew she was spiraling again, “I would die right here on this floor with you before giving up on trying to save you.” He shook his head, handing her his shield, “You hold this and block us, alright? We’re leaving.”

Just as leaned over to pick her up, the door behind them burst open to reveal Clint and Wanda both standing there.

At Steve’s confused look, Wanda nodded behind her at where Sam was fighting a few of the guards, “It had been 30 minutes.”

Steve turned back to Natasha, starting to pick her up, but with a new intensified energy, obviously thankful for their backup, “We gotta go!”

Natasha dropped Steve’s shield and pushed him back. She needed room to breathe, room to think. It didn’t make sense. They had cleared the computers and stayed behind until there were only 8 minutes left before the bomb would go off?

There had to be another way out.

The way that they had intended to use right before she’d come in.

“Nat! We are _not_ going to die here because you’re too stubborn to let me help you.” Steve exclaimed, getting desperate now. He leaned down to pick her up again, this time against her will. It wasn’t hard to overpower her.

But this was his problem. He thought he always had to save everyone. He acted out of morality instead of rationality. Maybe it was because he was a product of his time, when things were simpler, when the morality always led to a solution. But she didn’t think that way.

“Just wait!”

“One minute!” Clint warned, looking at the computers.

Natasha thought back to when she first walked into this room. Most of the men were still standing by the computers, but the most important man, the man with the flash drive…he had been standing near the wall.

She thought about how his eyes had flickered to the side when he realized what she was looking for.

Natasha pointed to the back wall, “There’s another way out…these men had to have a way to leave with the drive, didn’t they?”

Wanda followed her gaze, running towards the wall. Feeling around against it, she shook her head, “It’s not budging and there’s no latch…or anything…”

Natasha looked down at the floor, “The tiles…”

“The tiles, Wanda!” Steve said louder, seeing as Nat’s voice had been considerably weaker. He seemed to have come around to her idea. At least he was good at compromising and listening. He may have been a product of his time, but he wasn’t set in his ways. Even she wasn’t very good at compromising to change, so she was impressed at how open he was.

Wanda hovered over one tile in particular that looked out of the ordinary, a darker shade of grey than the rest of them. She pulled it up and immediately saw a latch. Without even bothering to waste time, she used her powers to pull it up and a few feet away, the floor fell inward to reveal an opening.

Without waiting, she jumped through the opening.

The rest of the team paused.

“It’s a chute. I’m in the tunnel. Come on!” Wanda called up through the opening.

Though they couldn’t see her, they took their word for it.

Sam went next, running and jumping down the chute.

Steve scooped Natasha up from the ground and she grabbed his shield. He glanced at the computers. There were 20 seconds left. He saw Clint running ahead of him, jumping down the chute.

Steve paused for a moment at the edge of the opening before jumping through, still holding Natasha, shaping himself around her. She knew he was doing it to block her from taking too many hits as they tumbled down the chute. And it secured her, feeling his arms closed in around her. But at the same time, it baffled her too. How could he be so unconditionally selfless? He was willing to take so much damage, for her, so that she didn’t have to. The sacrifice play- that was _his_ play. But when would he stop getting hurt? She lifted her eyes to look at him for a moment, but all she saw on his face was steely resolve.

And then he jumped.

And everything went to hell. He tried to hold onto her, but quickly lost control as the chute curved. They tumbled out clumsily, completely disconnected, despite how hard he had tried to block her from the hits, and both collided stiffly with the concrete ground of the tunnel.

After taking a moment, Steve looked over at Nat. But she wasn’t moving. He crawled over to her to find that she was fully unconscious now. Anxiously, he checked to make sure she was still breathing and luckily, she was, although it was stifled.

The chute they’d just tumbled out of trembled for a moment as the bomb went off and then Steve heard the rumbling of the explosion traveling down through the opening. Running over, he pushed his shield against the chute’s opening, blocking the fire and debris from coming through.

Behind him, Wanda dropped to her knees by Natasha and started looking her over. She’d never seen her mentor like this. Her right eye was swollen shut and the rest of her face was pink from the punches that she must have taken. Those were definitely going to darken into bruises. Wanda could also see that there was a rip in her suit at her stomach. Carefully, she pulled it open and was able to see that there was a cut underneath. It didn’t look too deep, although it must have bled a lot. Wanda waved her hand over the cut, moving her fingers back and forth to coax the skin to close over it.

“How is she?” Clint asked as he walked up. He seemed uneasy, but definitely wouldn’t confess to it if he was asked.

Wanda sighed heavily, unsure of how to answer, “She’s definitely got a fractured or broken ankle, and maybe a concussion.” She shook her head, “It’s not good, Clint.”  
“We need to fly her out of here.” Steve said as he picked her up off the ground again.

Sam nodded, walking ahead, “There should be someone waiting at the tunnel opening. We called for help a while ago.”

“Who’d you call?” Wanda asked, looking up.

Sam offered a small smile, “The only Avenger on this side of the globe.”

Wanda smiled back. She knew that another member of the team had gone on a trip to visit the UN a few days ago, “Vision.” She nodded, “He’ll know what to do.”

They made their way down the rest of the tunnel and then Wanda went out first, using her powers to lift Nat out and lay her gently on the snowy ground.

The cold helped Nat to regain consciousness, “Nat?” Wanda asked, bending over her in the snow outside of the tunnel.

Natasha blinked a few times, her entire body feeling weak. She looked up at Wanda, her heart swelling with pride at the girl she’d trained- Wanda was the reason they were all alive. Behind her, Nat saw something floating, “I’m seeing ghosts…” She whispered.

“Not ghosts.” Vision’s voice rang out behind Wanda, “Just your resident AI.”

Natasha smiled a little bit, “You have something else you want to argue with me about?”

“As a matter of fact-” Vision started.

Natasha scoffed lightly, “Remind me where your mute button is again.”

Vision smiled at that, admiring the fiery tone she still managed to have despite her injuries, “Let’s get her on the ship.”


	4. Chapter 4

3:54.

That was the time when he saw when finally forced himself to look at the clock.

Letting out a quiet groan, he sat up. He’d been tossing and turning for hours. He didn’t know what had triggered it, but Bucky was on his mind. His best friend, the corny jokes they told, the look in his eyes when he’d seen him last- it wouldn’t stop. It invaded his mind like an intruder, forcing him to relive the moments, good and bad, until they started to drive him insane.

And then he thought of Peggy.

He missed her soft brown hair, and the English accent that he hadn’t heard in years, and her bright eyes, even the way she smelled. He could remember her so clearly- like an enchanting ghost. He almost wished that he could forget so that he wouldn’t have to be reminded- over and over again- that she wasn’t there. And that she never would be.

Slowly, he pulled himself out of bed, thinking distantly that tea may be able to calm his mind.

As he opened his door, he wondered if anyone else was awake. There had been a few times that he’d been up in the middle of the night, expecting to be alone, and had run into someone else- Bruce absently reading the newspaper over and over again so he didn’t have to face the nightmares they all knew came when he slept, Wanda sitting out on the balcony late at night, holding an old family photo, Tony working until dawn because he couldn’t bring himself to do anything else.

But tonight, the living room was empty.

He moved quietly to the kitchen and started to brew some tea, although he wondered if there was a point at all to sleeping now. Maybe he should be brewing coffee instead.

_Get some shut-eye, Brooklyn. Would it kill you to relax?_

Bucky’s jokes, his playful remarks, they were built into Steve now. It was almost like his own brain was filling in the space that knew Bucky was gone.

He tried to shake the thoughts away.

Tea, that would do it. 

It had to.

He focused on the microwave as it heated the water. He wasn’t usually much of a tea-drinker, that was more Wanda’s territory. But he knew it could relax him, or at least give him something else to think about for the time being.

For a moment, over the low hum of the microwave, he thought he heard a thumping noise. He turned to the microwave, looking into it curiously, had he broken it somehow?

Stopping the timer, he pulled the cup out and peered inside, listening.

Within a few seconds, he heard it again. Definitely thumping, and definitely not coming from the microwave.

It sounded further away.

He looked down the hallway towards where the training rooms were. A small amount of light was seeping out from the crack of one of the doors.

Someone else was awake after all.

He left his tea steeping on the counter and went to investigate. Maybe it was Sam. He knew his friend liked to get an early start to the morning, but it usually began with a run.

It could be Wanda. She didn’t seem like she slept much at all, seeming especially restless when Vision was out of town.

Carefully, he pushed the door open and entered the room. The lights were dimmed, leaving it looking much darker than he was usually used to.

Still, his eyes caught on her immediately.

He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t expected it to be Nat. He’d never run into her in the middle of the night before- he figured she kept to herself and turned inward when things were bothering her.

Hands wrapped for protective measure, Nat was going at it, pretty passionately he might say, with one of the punching bags they had hanging up.

A loud thumping noise came with every landed punch, explaining what he’d been hearing from the kitchen.

Alternating between punches and kicks, she didn’t hold back. He hadn’t seen her in action in a while. The energy and precision with her technique was enchanting to watch. It was almost a dance, each move choreographed, perfectly landed- one after the other.

She picked up some momentum then, hitting the bag even harder. She didn’t seem like she was training at all; it looked much more personal, intimate even.

There was definitely something behind this.

Anger, at the very least.

She didn’t look like she was slowing down any time soon. She delivered blow after blow until the bag itself was trembling back and forth from the chain that held it to the ceiling.

He thought about stepping in but knew it might end with him on the receiving end of one of those punches, so he stayed silent, waiting at the edge of the room.

She kept going for what he thought was a long time, especially for someone with average strength.

Well, not average, he knew that.

But not enhanced, like his.

Each punch she delivered had a bite, lingering for a moment too long, her muscles tense and her breath heavy. He couldn’t help admiring her physique. She knew how to use every inch of her body to deliver a lethal amount of damage. He doubted that any normal human would be able to handle her- he wasn’t even completely sure that he could.

Landing a few more blows, it looked like she had finally started to exhaust herself. Her punches came in slower, less powerfully, until she stopped altogether. She just stood next to the bag, breathing heavily, and started to remove the wraps from her hands.

“Early morning or late night?” She said out loud.

For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating. How had she noticed him come in? He quickly reminded himself who he was dealing with and smirked, “Late night.” He replied, pushing off the wall and walking towards her, “You?”

She still hadn’t turned around to face him, “Both.”

Steve nodded, moving to stand next to the bag. He put his arms against it, finally getting it to still, “Well, you seem to be back up to speed.” He commented, gesturing to her hand.

She didn’t react, just looked down, flexing her hand into a fist and then relaxing it, “Yea, I finally feel like I’m back. I think all the training, starting back from the beginning, it’s really helped my technique.” She sounded optimistic, but he couldn’t get a good read on what she was actually thinking. He felt like this a lot- like there was more to what she was saying, and he just couldn’t get a grasp on it. He guessed she was probably optimistic, but also frustrated with having to start from square one of training. He would be too if he was in her position.

Honestly, Steve couldn’t believe all the work Dr. Cho had done. It had only been two weeks since Russia and Nat was already back. He remembered the stitches, the magnetic stabilizers for her broken bones, the dark purple bruises that had eventually faded. It had all terrified him. Seeing someone who he’d thought was unshakable become so broken, it reminded him of fallibility of it all. The vulnerability they always forgot they had. Or at least the vulnerability that he'd forgotten _she_ had.

Steve circled around to the other side of the punching bag so that he was a little bit closer to her. He leaned against it, “You didn’t stay up just to train, did you?”

For a moment, it looked like she wanted to respond, but in true Natasha fashion, she brushed his question aside, “I take it you couldn’t sleep either.” She replied nonchalantly, “Something on your mind?”

But he’d taken note of how quickly and artfully she’d changed the subject, and he reminded himself to go back to it later, “There always is.” He said with a smirk. He didn’t really like talking about Bucky or Peggy with anyone, but for some reason, he wanted to tell her. He wanted to empty his mind to her, especially now, when it was so restless. For some reason that he wasn’t sure was justified, he felt like she would understand it- or would at least pretend to, “I can’t stop thinking about Bucky.”

He paused briefly before continuing, “I know the file said that he was missing, that he was presumed dead, but for some reason, my mind just won’t let me believe it.” He took in a breath, composing himself, noting how patiently she waited each time he stopped, “He promised me that he would never give up on me. And he never did, even before I was Captain America. So I can’t give up on him _.”_

Natasha just nodded, seemingly taking in the information. He watched her for a reaction, wondering what she would think. He knew she didn’t give in to her emotions the same way he did, would she chastise him for that? Was it delusional for him to keep obsessing over this?

“It makes sense that you wouldn’t want to believe something unless you see it for yourself, especially something like this. Bucky isn’t just someone you can forget about or take your mind off of; he means a lot to you.” Natasha finally said, looking up at him, “I don’t think you’ll ever get closure unless you find him.”

The weight that had been pushing down on him felt just the slightest bit more bearable, even if it was only just for a moment. He felt justified and even more so, he felt _heard_ for the first time in months.

God, he’d missed having her around.

He wasn’t sure the others would be so understanding. And she always told him exactly what he needed to hear…or was it just what he wanted to hear? He never really knew with her… but regardless, he knew that it had made him feel better- so did it even matter?

“I do think though,” She continued slowly, calculating, obviously thinking about the best way to put it, “that you need to prepare yourself for what you might find. Bucky is highly trained so he _could_ be alive, but when you find him, he will probably try to kill you or won’t recognize you at all. And that might be more painful than you think.” She paused, “And, although he is who he is, there is still a chance he could be dead, Steve.”

He nodded stiffly, that proved it; this wasn’t just what he wanted to hear. He knew that he could trust her to say what he _needed_ to hear. He wasn’t sure why he’d doubted it for a second, maybe it was because she was being completely serious- no quips, no banter, no smile at all.

He quickly reminded himself that she was awake for a reason too. One that he would make sure they got to eventually.

“You’re right.” He replied to her, “I don’t think that I’ve really…grappled with that yet. But I will. It’s just hard to go back to thinking that he’s dead again after he turned out to be alive the first time.”

Natasha’s eyes traced over his face, reading his expression and blinking in understanding way, like she could read his thoughts, feel what he was feeling, “Your brain is just going to keep thinking that there’s a possibility he might still be out there somewhere.”

Steve couldn’t keep himself from sighing, “I have to shake that out. I have to remember that he’s human…” He paused, apprehensive for a moment, before continuing, “I was thinking about this a few weeks ago, but we are _all_ human. And we’re much more vulnerable than we think. We go around, acting like we can’t die, like we won’t. But we aren’t invincible…”

“A few weeks ago?”

Steve looked up then. He couldn’t avoid eye contact with her- he didn’t want to. He knew why she was asking, and he gave her the answer she was looking for- the truth, “When you got hurt.”

Natasha didn’t react to that either, barely batted an eye, but he saw her posture droop in the slightest amount, in defeat, “Yea, I think I got that reminder too.” She said with a forced smile.

Steve remembered Vision’s words in the jet. The look in his eyes- even though he was a robot: fear. The feelings washed over him again, the terror, the dread- and then, he was back on the jet, back in the chaos.

* * *

_Vision looked over the team that was gathering around Natasha (Sam was at the front of the jet, piloting), “The damage seems extensive…I would say her injuries are more than critical, but the biggest things we need to keep an eye on are possible internal bleeding and the seriousness of her head injury.”_

_Natasha took in a deep breath, seemingly undeterred by his words. She did seem much quieter than before- the smirk wiped off of her face and her eyes deep with concentration. She was trying to manage the pain, keep it from swallowing her- Steve could tell; he knew the feeling._

_Clint stepped up to the table while Steve watched him from the other side. He didn’t want to get in the way- he wasn’t very experienced with medical knowledge. And he knew Clint had more to contribute._

_“I’m no doctor, but I know internal bleeding when I see it.” Clint said as he removed his jacket and placed it carefully over Natasha’s chest. He leaned up towards her, “This is a one-time thing, alright? Don’t get any ideas.”_

_Natasha almost smiled, but it looked like that even caused her pain. Her breathing was strained, but not panicked. Steve wasn’t sure how she was keeping herself so calm, but it made him feel a little bit better- knowing that she was in control, that she was still herself, despite all that had happened. All that he’d **let** happen._

_Clint carefully unzipped her suit, careful to keep her bra covered just so she didn’t feel fully exposed. He unzipped down to her abdomen, revealing skin underneath. From the looks of it, her stomach was badly bruised, and combined with her uneven breathing, he deduced that one or several of her ribs were broken, irritating her lungs. But they hadn’t been punctured._

_Steve remembered Fury’s punctured lung- him gasping for breath- Natasha wasn’t there just yet._

_Luckily, her abdomen area looked normal too- well, normal enough._

_“No internal bleeding.” Clint reported as he zipped her back up._

_Steve was relieved that Clint had come to the same conclusion, “That’s good. So we’re in the clear there.” He looked up at Natasha just in time to see her head lull, “Nat?”_

_Clint acted quickly, not wasting any time. He moved up to her head, “Nat, you okay?” He tried after Steve._

_Natasha’s hand moved out, reaching outwards on the side that Clint was on. Clumsily, she knocked something off of a nearby seat._

_Clint, who was standing near, grabbed her hand, “Nat. Look at me. What do you need?”_

_Natasha squeezed his hand and they exchanged a quick look before Clint moved quickly and grabbed a nearby container. She didn’t let go of Clint’s hand, using it to pull herself slightly towards his side._

_Leaning over, she threw up into the container that he was holding out for her._

_Clint was careful to move her hair out of the line of fire as he waited patiently for her to be done. After a few moments, she stopped, but looked just about ready to lose consciousness and slip right off of the table._

_“Steve!” Clint exclaimed- he couldn’t help her because he was still holding on to the container._

_Steve stepped forward quickly and pulled Natasha back so that she wasn’t in danger of toppling off the table anymore and could relax on her back again, but at that point, she looked delirious. Her breathing was quickening- and her eyes were unfocused._

_“Clint, Vision, somethings wrong…” Steve said as he checked her pulse- it was heightened._

_Vision looked her over, but before he could say anything, Clint had already jumped in, “She’s in shock.” He said knowingly, too much experience in his voice._

_Natasha was shivering now, looking like she was trying to catch her breath- but couldn’t. Her ribs were obviously preventing her from taking in full breaths, leading her breathing to be reduced to gasps and wheezes._

_Steve had never felt so helpless. Was he going to watch her die on this table? Was he going to watch her descend into madness? He’d never seen her so unraveled before- so shaken up. It disturbed him more than it should have. His heart ached at the thought of what she must be going through. He felt sick with guilt, but knew that now wasn’t the time for him to be feeling anything._

_They had to focus on her._

_Clint moved forward again- he was obviously the one with the most real medical experience- and the one with the most experience with Natasha- both of which gave him the most authority at the table. It seemed like he knew what he was doing- the way he acted with her was different than the way he behaved with everyone else._

_Clint gently reached up and put his hands on the sides of Natasha’s cheeks, “Nat.” He said lightly, “Nat, it’s Clint.”_

_Natasha nodded, though her gaze was wild with strained panic. She tilted her head to the side so that she could look at him._

_Steve found a jacket on a seat nearby and put it over her so that maybe she wouldn’t be shivering anymore- although he knew it probably wasn’t related to the temperature._

_“You remember Budapest?” He smirked, “I know you do.” He continued, “Do you remember what you said to me? When I thought I was done…”_

_Natasha took in a strained breath._

_“You’re in control.” He said- repeating her words back to her, “You have as much choice in your fate as anyone else.” He shook his head, looking like he was starting something new now, “You’re the strongest person I know, Nat. You gotta calm down. You gotta get back in control. I know you can.”_

_Natasha took in a deep breath then, slower than before, but still strained._

_Clint nodded, “Good.” He smiled down at her, “Focus on the hum of the jet. The vibration of the table under you.” He continued._

_Natasha took in another deep breath- this one smoother than before._

_“If you want, maybe you can think about some memories.” He smirked, “Maybe not Budapest.”_

_Natasha let out a small cough-laugh.  
“Sorry, sorry.” Clint shook his head, “Definitely not Budapest. What about that time we skydived in Spain? The countryside was beautiful…Or the time that we got to ride the train through the Swiss Alps…” He leaned in, and whispered something in her ear. _

_A small smile appeared on her face and she closed her eyes._

_Steve was fascinated by their relationship. He watched them carefully, able to see how connected they were. It was like they perfectly understood each other. When Clint took a breath in, Natasha followed, and as he spoke, her shoulders relaxed._

_Steve was slightly saddened by how easy it was for Clint to understand her, to connect with her. He was threatened by it- but he didn’t know why- and he pushed the feelings away, knowing they were less than important at the moment._

_“You’re okay, look at you now.” Clint said with a small smile, “Good as new. We’re still getting up tomorrow for shooting practice, aren’t we? We never miss a Sunday.”_

_Natasha let out a small breath, obviously still trying to keep herself calm, but giving in to his playfulness, “I’ll…probably still be a better shot.” She glanced down at her hand, which was obviously broken, and her smile faltered._

* * *

Steve snapped back into reality as Natasha moved around the punching bag. He noticed her eyes drift down to her feet. She stretched her ankle, the one that had been broken.

Suddenly, he realized he hadn’t considered that maybe training wasn’t to escape anything- maybe it had more to do with fear. Fear that stemmed from what had happened in Russia.

“You haven’t been hurt like this before, at least not while you’ve been with us.” Steve commented, “We never talked about it.”

Natasha looked up, obviously taking note of his attempt to get her to talk about her emotions. If she had wanted to, she could have easily shut it down, he’d seen her do it in the past. But this time, her eyes softened slightly, “I didn’t really have much to say.” She said simply, “I guess I was just as shocked as everyone else…that I’d left myself so vulnerable.” She shook her head, the slightest amount of shame in her expression.

“You’re human.” Steve said, a bit startled by her confession.

Natasha didn’t seem phased by his comment, his attempt to help, “I’m not supposed to be.” She said with a darkened look- one that he recognized- he’d seen it from her before, “It’s skill, precision, mechanics, it’s everything that isn’t _human_. The _mistake_ is being human.” She looked like she wanted to hit the punching bag again, “If I slip, we all do. And someone could get hurt because of it.”

“You did get hurt.”

Natasha turned, meeting his eyes. He took note of the emotion in hers- the slightest amount of anger, shading something deeper, something more painful, “Exactly. That’s why I’m training, making sure it doesn’t happen again. To me, or anyone else.”

Steve could see the fear behind her eyes, the fear that she would get hurt again, or that someone would get hurt because of her, “Nat, you faced an entire _floor_ of guards by yourself.” Something flashed through her eyes. He couldn’t really pin point what it was and the moment he noticed it, she’d wiped it away, “And there were things we didn’t expect—you could have trained for a lifetime and _still_ been defeated.”

“I _have_ trained for a lifetime.” Natasha said, eyebrows raised.

Steve shook his head, wondering if that was an attempt by her to lighten the mood. He wasn’t going to let her off that easily, “Regardless, I thought what you did was impressive, especially with the resources you had. And you even tried to save my life over your own.”

“But you were too stubborn to leave.” She added with a small smile. When he gave a smile back, she continued, “Look, I know it doesn’t make sense. I just hate feeling out of control…and I can’t let it happen again. It’s easier when you’re on your own…”

Steve tilted his head, “How?”

Natasha’s eyes drifted outward to the edges of the room. She gave a small shrug, “You don’t have to worry about letting anyone down.”

“What about yourself?”

She raised her eyebrows at that, and he knew that the question had intrigued her, “You could, I guess…” She paused, “But I never did.”

Steve paused for a moment, considering whether he should ask the next question that came to his mind. He wasn’t sure how she’d receive it, but maybe now- when she’d already been talking more than ever, she would be more open to it, “Nat, I’ve been thinking a lot about Russia and something you said…” 

She turned, her eyes burning into his, but blank as ever.

“You said that the team might be better off without you.” Steve looked at her, wondering if she would react.

Surprisingly, she did, with a nod and sad smile, “I remember.”

“Why would you think that?”

He felt a sharp pang to his heart when she looked away from him. He wondered what she was thinking, but all he could do was stare. His eyes caught on a small scar he noticed on her collarbone, one that he’d never seen before- it struck him then how little he actually knew about her.

There was a heaviness in her voice when she finally replied, “I thought it then because of that day, how I’d failed, but I’ve considered it before.” She sighed, “I’m not like any of you. Steve, you have so much heart, and you try your best to do the right thing. Clint, he has a family, and he would never do anything that they wouldn’t be proud of. Wanda is young and she wants so badly to make things right. And Vision, he is so undeniably pure and untouched by darkness, it’s impossible to corrupt him.” She paused, “I have so many lives on my conscience, but even still, I don’t think with my heart. Ever.”

Steve’s creased his eyebrows, wanting to know more. Wanting to know everything. He just wanted to listen and listen, to let her talk for hours, so that she could finally let go of some of the weight that he could tell was holding her down.

“And you do.” Natasha said knowingly, as if it were fact, “You wouldn’t leave me. With one minute left on the clock you wouldn’t go, even though that was the only way to make the mission worth it, the only way to get the information, the only way for _you_ to survive.” She paused and added, in a whisper, “If things had been reversed, I wouldn’t have stayed.”

Steve couldn’t let that slide, “We’ve had this conversation, Nat. I think you would. I trust you and you trust me, that isn’t skill or calculation… you’re much more than your head.”

She met his eyes and he almost, for a moment, thought he saw something even more behind them. Her lips curved softly into a smile, one that he copied before he was even aware of it, “Come on, I bet your tea is cold by now.”

When she saw his head tilt, she continued, “I heard the microwave.”

He smiled to himself. He should have known she would have heard him coming- she was never caught off guard- by anyone. He fell in step next to her as they walked to the kitchen, “You know…in Russia, you also said that you wished you’d met me when you were younger.” He raised his eyebrows, playfully, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Natasha turned to look at him, seemingly thankful, she picked up the bait easily, “That, I don’t remember.” She smirked.

Steve nodded, a smile of his own on his face, “It was on the jet…right before you passed out.” He specified, “You said you think we would have gotten along if we’d met then.” He gave a small shrug.

Natasha rolled her eyes, “The delirium must have been really setting in.” She shook her head, “Concussion, remember? All hallucinations.” She gave a small shrug, “Unless you thought I was coming on to you?”

Steve shrugged, looking over at her, “I thought you were trying to connect with me...”

Natasha leaned in, over the counter where Steve was preparing the rest of his tea, “You thought that I was flirting with you while I was dying on that table!” She exclaimed with a laugh, “Were you flattered?” She raised her eyebrows.

Steve wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He just rolled his eyes, smiling. She definitely had the power in the conversation now. And he was fine with letting her have it- she was flirt, and he’d gotten used to it by now. He couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy it either.

“I bet 15-year-old Natasha would have had no problem seducing a young Steve Rogers….” She paused, “Or wait? Would you even be young? You would have been almost in your 50s right?”

Steve let out a laugh, glad to see that she was relaxed now, “Okay, okay. Enough is enough.” He said, even though he was still smiling.

“I could keep going, but…I know why you brought this up.” Natasha took a seat at one of the counter chairs, “You want me to talk about my past.” She stared at him knowingly, “Look, Steve…”

Steve shook his head, feeling like he’d overstepped. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to venture back into this territory, “No, that wasn’t what I-“ He paused, deciding to go for it, “I don’t know…maybe that _was_ what I was getting at.” He confessed, “I just wish I knew more about you.”

Natasha was still smiling, her lips pursed in a way that drew his attention to them. She raised her eyebrows, leaning confidently against the counter, “What do you want to know?” She was still flirting, but he saw through it- this was a test. She was gauging what his intentions were- what he wanted to know, how he would ask it, if he was brave enough to ask at all.

He was, just because he was too curious, “Well, I don’t know.” He shrugged, “Ever since Russia, I’ve been wondering a little bit about you and Clint. The way he was with you on the jet…I knew you guys worked for SHIELD at the same time, but-”

“You think we’re together.” It was accusatory, but not surprised.

Steve groaned, embarrassed by how this was all coming about, “Stop trying to guess what I’m trying to say.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, impatiently, “Okay, I’m done. Go ahead.”

Steve paused, looking at her, trying to decide how to continue, “I was just wondering about the history that it seems like you guys have.” He shrugged, “I guess…I know I had Peggy in the past, but I was thinking about you. Have you ever been in love?”

Natasha paused then- like a statue. She appeared to be thinking, but there was something unreadable in her eyes, something that she didn’t even look like she was in control of.

For a moment, he thought she was going to get angry. He considered that asking this might be over the line- that if she barely talked about her past, why would she even want to expand on this?

“Why are you asking?”

She was always thinking- he could tell. She easily lobbed the ball right back into his court for him to deal with, but he reminded himself that being honest was the easiest way to reply, “I want to know more about you. What’s shaped you…” He shrugged, “It scared me when I thought you were going to die. I thought we were going to lose you before I ever had the chance to know anything.” He looked at her, “So now I’m asking.”

Natasha nodded. Some of the tension in her shoulders relaxed, “I’m sorry.” She said briefly, “Sometimes, I get defensive when I think people are trying to dig into things that don’t necessarily need to be uncovered.” She paused, clarifying, “I’ve been asked about Clint before- and that’s obviously something that I don’t feel like I should have to talk about.”

“Oh, I had no idea. I was just-” Steve immediately started, but she cut him off.

“I know.” Natasha smiled gently, which calmed him. She could do that so easily- grounding him, sometimes before he even knew he needed to be.

Now, her demeanor seemed more relaxed, but still slightly apprehensive. He noticed that she moved her hands under the table to sit in her lap before she started talking again, “I’ve been in love.”

Steve nodded, stirring his tea before taking a seat in one of the counter chairs across from her. It was dark enough in the room between them that this conversation didn’t feel exposing. At least it didn’t seem that way to him. He didn’t respond to her, giving her time to continue if she wanted to.

She eventually did, “I never want to talk about my _childhood_ or my training because they were full of awful experiences and…love has kind of been that way for me too.” She looked up, “So I’m not sure that I want to get into it…right now.”

Steve noticed that she tacked on the _right now_. Maybe that meant at some point, they would get to talk about it, “I understand. I don’t want to force anything.”

Natasha just smiled at that, meeting his gaze for a moment. Her eyes were appreciative and soft, the small amount of light from the kitchen reflecting off of her skin, illuminating every inch. He took it in- the moment, it felt like something special.

Slowly, she leaned forward, “I’ve never heard that much about Peggy.” She gave a small shrug, “What was she like?”

Steve smiled down towards his mug. Usually, this would have been painful- or even a bit awkward, but now, he was excited to share it with her- he wanted her to know, “Peggy was a strong woman. She was always the most powerful person in the room. And she was passionate about what she believed in…one of those things being _me_.” He looked across the table, “Even before I was Captain America. She saw me for who I was when I was just a scrawny kid from Brooklyn.”

“I can’t picture that.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “You don’t have to. It’s plastered all over the museum in Washington.”

Natasha smirked, and then looked up at him, “I think Peggy and I would have gotten along.”

Steve thought about it for a moment. The two of them together- he wasn’t sure he could even imagine it. But still, his heart warmed, “That, or it would have been an epic fight.” He said with a small smile.

Natasha smirked and nodded back, pursing her lips slightly. She looked upwards towards the ceiling, considering something.

Silence filled the room between them as Steve tried not to watch her. He could tell that she didn’t want him to say anything else, that her mind was working- so he focused on his tea, which was distastefully lukewarm.

“This is difficult for me.” Natasha said without displaying anything on her face. Her expression didn’t falter, her posture didn’t tense- but he knew that was all a calculated front, “ _Trusting people_ is difficult for me…conveying anything of myself to anyone always seems like a risk…”

Steve nodded, meeting her eyes, though there was nothing to see behind them, “I don’t want to push you. I want to know, but I also understand that it’s difficult so if you’re not comfortable, that’s completely fair.”

Natasha smiled thoughtfully then, “I’m comfortable.” She leveled her eyes with his.

Steve’s heart swelled at that. She was guarded, almost to a fault. And knowing that she appreciated his attempts to provide a safe, open environment for her, made it all worth it. He wanted her to be open with him, and maybe now was finally the time for her to do that.

She took another beat and then forced herself to continue, “I fell in love when I was 17.” She paused, “He lived in Kirov and I was assigned a mission there.”

Steve watched her expectantly, wondering if she was going to go on. When she didn’t, he decided to jump in, “How did you meet?”

Natasha looked like she regretted starting. Her expression was tight, controlled, void of both emotion and humanity. It was unsettling, but he knew that she probably couldn’t bear to do anything else, “He was the friend of a mark that I was tailing.” She told him, “We actually met the night of his friend’s death.” She paused, “I had no idea who he was…until he told me about his friend the next day.” She shook her head, “But I couldn’t leave. There was something about him.”

Steve wanted to ask another question to help her along, but he wasn’t sure how to go from there. He couldn’t think of a subsequent question to ask that wasn’t too prying or personal.

So he just smiled, making sure his gaze was gentle and receptive. He could tell how hard this was for her, just based on the change in her tone. But her strength was just as evident. The bravery in her vulnerability struck him, pulled him in, and broke his heart all simultaneously.

“I gave him a fake name, helped him grieve, and within that year, we were living together.” Natasha told Steve, a reminiscent smile coming to her face, “We used to drink vodka together- his favorite type- and talk drunkenly about our pasts. He was first man I’d ever let myself cry in front of. And the first person who made me believe that I wasn’t wrong to do it.”

“You? Cry?”

Natasha chuckled, finally looking more like herself, “Give me a break! I was just a kid, remember?” She looked down, her expression falling slightly- he only caught it because of the dim light shining on her face.

Steve waited a moment before asking, “What happened?”

Natasha looked up, past Steve towards the wall. This was when he got an even better look at her eyes- they looked exhausted. She shrugged, “I started getting phone calls...I knew it was _them_. I’d evaded them too long.” She paused, “And for a second, a _brief second_ , I thought about telling him about it- telling him the truth.” She shook her head, “But it wouldn’t have mattered.”

Steve was stiff, feeling on edge as he waited to hear what was going to come about.

Natasha looked the most hesitant then. She seemed like she didn’t want to keep going, but had willed herself to, “When I got back to our apartment, I had convinced myself I was going to tell him- at least _part of_ it, but before I could…he pulled a gun on me.”

Steve’s eyebrows raised.

“Turns out the normalcy that I’d been bathing in for that year was all part of their fabricated _illusion._ ” She said as bitterly as she dared to. She still seemed the slightest bit cautious about speaking negatively of her old allies, “It had been a test that I’d _failed_ so he had orders to take me out, but I was too quick.” There was an expanse in her eyes- one that he couldn’t even begin to unpack, “It was over for him before he could even choke out an explanation.”

Steve blinked, stunned into silence. There was so much more to her past than he could ever know, and that scared him. If this was something she was willing to share with him, what could she be hiding behind all the other walls she’d built? And how was she keeping that all trapped in?

He felt like, for the first time, he saw her as a 19-year-old kid, a girl who was in love, and hopeful, and optimistic, and they’d taken that from her, forming her into this person that could barely even stand to trust someone anymore. He was so disgusted by that.

“That’s when I really became _The_ Black Widow...” She said blankly, “I knew that I would never have anything good, or _real,_ as long as they still had control over me. All I could do was gain solace from being the most feared person in the world if I couldn’t be anything else.”

Natasha seemed shaken by her own story. She wouldn’t dare let her expression reflect it, but he could see that her shoulders looked tense and her eyes were glued forward, still as ever.

Steve took a moment to respond, trying to find words, although he wasn’t sure that there would be any that she would want to hear from him. He wanted to help so badly, to fix it all, but he didn’t even have the slightest idea of where to start, “Natasha, I had no idea…” He shook his head.

Natasha’s eyes moved to him then, “I know you didn’t.” She said simply, “I never gave you the chance to.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve said before he could stop himself. But that phrase was just about the least helpful thing he could have said…so he kept going, “It’s admirable how much you’ve changed since then, despite who they wanted you to be.”

Natasha’s expression deepened slightly, her face seeming momentarily conflicted. She shook her head, “I don’t need you to convince me of that. That’s not why I told you.” She forced a small smile, “I just wanted you to know.”

“Thank you…for telling me.”

Natasha nodded, leaving them in a moment of silence before she got up from her chair, “We should probably both try to sleep…I know all of this has exhausted me for the night.” She gestured down to her hands, but he had a feeling she was referring to the talk they’d just had too, “Goodnight, Steve.”

He watched her retreat back into her room, unsettled.

What had just happened?

He couldn’t help feeling like he’d overstepped, like he’d pushed her too far. For a moment, he considered going after her and making sure she was okay. The man from the 40s told him that was what he needed to do- he needed to be there for her, to be her confidant and friend.

But he’d forgotten who he was dealing with.

This wasn’t the 40s- she didn’t _need_ him. In fact, she probably didn’t want his help either. Maybe the best thing that he could do for her was let her process all of it on her own- and just emphasize that he didn’t judge her for anything, and never would.

He wished he could go back and change it. He often contemplated time- going back, fixing things, living it all out differently. He would go back and have his life, grow old with a family, with Peggy, but…he’d fix this for her too. He’d show her love, and save her from the life they’d forced her to have. For now, though, he’d just stand by her…that was all he could do.

Slowly, he went back to his own room, a cold cup of tea in his hand, his mind too filled with thoughts now for him to even begin to go back to sleep.

A few doors over, Natasha was lying flat on her bed - her expression blank, but her mind flooded.

_You’ve changed since then, despite who they wanted you to be._

She felt the sentiment behind it, but the words pierced deeper- because she knew they weren’t true.

She hadn’t changed.

She was _exactly_ who they wanted her to be.

And Steve, he trusted her.

Which is what was going to make him so easy to exploit.

Is that why she’d told him?

She tried to convince herself that she trusted him too, that she’d shared to actually get closer to him, but ultimately, she knew that wasn’t true.

She’d been trained so well, it had felt like second nature to use that story as a means of gaining his trust, of building rapport that she would be able to use for a tactical advantage. But why did it always come to this?

That’s what made her toss and turn that night- that’s what made her lie awake until the sun rose and she heard Clint lugging his training equipment down the hall- and what made her finally realize that she really wasn’t on their side anymore.

And she wasn’t sure why that realization hurt so much.

Until she heard a quiet knock on her door, “Nat?”

It was Steve.

“I might be just talking to a door, but…I didn’t end up sleeping.” He paused, “And I thought you might be up for some hand-to-hand training.”

She knew he was checking on her.

She knew he wasn’t here to train- he was here to make sure she was okay.

And that was what made this all so hard- Steve, and the fact that his first thought at dawn was to come check on her. It was enough to make her want to give it all up– to go out and train with him, joking around just so she could see him smile (regardless of how tired he was).

But she remained silent in her bed until she heard him quietly walk away from her door.

She couldn’t exploit his trust. She couldn’t _use_ him like this.

That was the one thing she refused compromise.

Finally, she let out the breath she’d been holding in, grasping for the first time how hard this was going to be.

But not allowing herself to feel the weight of it.

This was going to get done. It had to.

And she was prepared to be on the wrong side to do it.


	5. Chapter 5

Natasha’s head whipped harshly to the side, her hair briefly concealing her view. But still, she was able to duck under the next attack. Her opponent was forceful, but she wasn’t in the mood to get beaten again.

He tried to swing at her a second time, but she’d anticipated that, and was already diving to the ground, rolling quickly, and retrieving a gun on a discarded body. She turned back in the same moment and shot him before he could get close enough to do any harm.

But while she’d been occupied with him, someone else had come up behind her. Smaller in stature, she could tell it was a woman- who was definitely quicker than the man she’d just finished with. Her arms wrapped around Natasha’s head and shoulders, readying to snap her neck.

But Natasha elbowed her opponent in the stomach before that fatal moment, giving her enough room to get free of the grasp around her neck. Turning so that they were facing, she charged, but the woman countered skillfully and landed a swift punch on Natasha’s bad side.

This caused her to pause, only momentarily. 

But a moment was too long. 

The woman was already attacking again. She’d noticed Natasha’s weak point and easily landed another punch there before sending a second to collide directly with her face.

Natasha’s eyes watered from the immediate pain sensation coming from her chest, but she wasn’t done yet. She saw another punch coming and was ready to counter, but before she could, a streak of color came from the other side of the room.

A large clang sounded as the woman in front of her collapsed to the ground and the red, white, and blue metal that she recognized returned willfully to its owner.

Steve walked through the room purposefully, his shield strapped to his arm again. He glanced around at the bodies that she’d discarded, “You alright?”

“I had her, Cap.” Natasha shot back, even though the fact that she was hunched over in an attempt to relieve the pain coming from her ribs openly contradicted her words, “I appreciate the help, but I’m not going to get back to 100% if you won’t let me.”

Steve took in a breath, as if he’d expected her response, “This isn’t training. We’re defending a base here. We can’t exactly afford any losses.” He looked like he was going to say something else, but she had already walked past him towards the door.

By the doorway, she bent over tenderly to pick up another pair of guns, “Training doesn’t imitate real situations like it should. The real way to learn is to _survive_ and _win_ , even when it doesn’t feel like you can.” She shook her head, “If I said I had her, _I had her,_ alright? Give me some space next time.”

“I have been giving you space, Nat.” Steve said as they exited the room. He saw a man coming around the corner with a gun, so he quickly tossed his shield in that direction, knocking him to the ground, “I’ve been giving you space for _weeks_. But I just want to help, and I don’t know what happened to make you want to avoid me…” He paused, hesitating, and then added, “Or maybe I do.”

Natasha shot in the other direction, wounding an incoming adversary, “You really want to get into this now?” She asked as they made their way swiftly down the hall. “I can’t believe you’d try to tie it back to _that night_.” She moved forward to shoot another incoming man.

Steve shrugged, blocking some gunfire with his shield, “What else am I supposed to think? You haven’t exactly given me any other clues.” He said with a shrug, “I just want to know what happened.”

Natasha sighed as she cocked her gun again, “Not everything is about you, _Captain_.” She looked forward.

“That’s not what I-”

Natasha whipped towards him, frustrated, even more so than before, “Then what did you mean? To me, it sounds like _you’re_ trying to pinpoint my emotions so that you can get validation and feel better about yourself.” She shot at him, “We’re trying to do two things today, Cap: defend this base, and hopefully, survive. And I _can’t do either_ if I have to worry about validating you too.”

Steve replied with a stern silence as they advanced onward. The tension between them spoke for itself as they reached a split.

Natasha glanced at him, “I’m better with computers- I’ll go clear the control room and check to make sure the database hasn’t been tampered with. I’ll meet you at the main floor in 20 minutes.”

Steve nodded in response, watching as she moved down the hallway to the right. She didn’t even look back at him once. He turned and began to make his way down the left, but deep within him, he could feel that something wasn’t right.

* * *

Natasha felt bitterness rising deep within her. She hated this confliction. She appreciated where Steve was coming from, but she really didn’t want his help. It was partly that she wanted to defend herself on her own so that she could get better, but even more so, she knew that she just couldn’t have him breathing down her neck.

She had to push him away.

She’d made the conscious decision to. 

It wasn’t just _that night_.

It was every single day.

Avoiding him, arguing with him, purposefully hurting him in ways that would keep him at a distance.

And she knew that it was obviously hurting him and straining their relationship- but she didn’t have a choice. It was the only way for her to be able to work on her own mission.

She’d gotten a call the night before- late in the night when everyone else had presumably been asleep.

_Get us the information from that base. We want anything you can get us- if you provide, we’ll meet up and give you back your files._

Whether that was true or not was up for debate, but she needed a bargaining chip regardless. _Leverage._ A spy’s greatest tool. That was what this information would be. It would get her back her freedom.

They were at a military base deep within the heart of New Mexico. Although seemingly normal at the surface, it had an extensive underground tunneling system that the US government was using to study technology, planes, and weapons.

That was why the information was valuable.

That was why there were invaders infiltrating the building now to try and steal it- but even more, that was why the Red Room wanted it too.

_Innocent people could die if you give that information away._

She wasn’t sure where this voice was coming from, but she shook it off. There were negative consequences, always, but this was the only way.

_There’s always another way._

Her mind spun with doubt, but she shook it away. The least she would do was steal it- and then go from there. If there was a way to outsmart them and still win, she’d figure it out. Maybe she could make another way _\- another_ option where everyone won.

But she quickly told herself that wasn’t realistic- and tried even more to resist her doubts.

Finally, she made it to the control room. Like she’d guessed, it was empty. The other team that had been trying to infiltrate the base hadn’t made it very far, she assumed.

She moved to the nearest computer and began de-encrypting so that she could download the information. Moving swiftly, she stuck a flash drive into the system that made her work even easier- it basically swept the computer with a virus that would do everything for her.

Within minutes, it would all be in her grasp.

“Looks pretty clear in here to me.”

Natasha had to stop herself from reacting, but truthfully, it had surprised her. She recognized the voice.

Steve.

She knew he could see that she was working on the computers, _against orders,_ but she’d mastered how to blend, how to make people think that she was exactly where she was supposed to be. It was in the tone, the confidence, the _consistency_. She had to convey normalcy, sell the fact that things were playing out as normal. In fact, she didn’t even know why he’d followed her at all. She assumed the best before jumping to the prediction that he was suspicious of her, “You know…this isn’t exactly what I meant by _space_.” She didn’t look away from the computer.

Steve shook his head, moving towards her, “We do things as a team. We aren’t just a bunch of rogue agents running missions on our own.” He seemed irritated and when she didn’t reply to him, he continued, “I don’t know how you did it then, but this isn’t Russia, Nat. This isn’t how _we_ do things.”

Natasha almost smiled- he’d thrown her a softball without even knowing it. She seized the opportunity swiftly- to make him feel bad, to shift the attention off of herself. She turned back towards him, away from the computer, her eyes _piercing_ , “What is that supposed to mean?” She asked, a cutting tone to her voice, “I ask for space from you and all of a sudden I’m a contract killer again. A _lone wolf_. You don’t get to use my past against me. You _will not_ use my mistakes as a weapon to hurt me.”

When his face dropped slightly, she knew that it had worked. His gaze softened, “I’m sorry.” He seemed surprised at himself, or even embarrassed for what he’d said, “I just want things to be back the way they were.”

She could bet that wasn’t the first time he’d said that.

Natasha turned back around, as if she were taking a moment, considering his statement. But really, she was eyeing the computer screen as the last part of the intel finished downloading onto the flash drive, “Here’s a tip.” She finally said, “If you want to get closer to me, I need more space.” She gave a shrug as she carefully removed the flash drive. With her back to him, she could conceal that she’d pulled it out of its slot and secure it in her hand.

“Seems counterintuitive.”

Natasha shrugged again, “That’s not the first time I’ve gotten that.” She rolled her eyes, moving the flash drive into her pocket while her back was still turned. Slowly then, she turned to face him, “The computers are clean. Would you like to escort me out? That’s why you’re here, right?”

When he frowned, she walked towards the door.

But then one of his hands clamped down on her shoulder, effectively stopping her in her path. He stared intensely into her eyes, his own unforgiving for once, “You’re giving me an awful bad feeling here, Nat.” He nodded towards the computers, “All of this…it’s a little bit too familiar.”

She knew that he was referencing the covert intel retrieval she’d done when on a mission with him before. When she’d lied to him on behalf of SHIELD.

So he _was_ suspicious of her.

Calmly, she didn’t break his gaze, “Are you accusing me of something?”

“Should I be?”

Natasha raised her eyebrows. He was thinking like her now, throwing the ball into her arena, making her figure out how to play it. It was smart. She respected that. “I thought we were a _team_.” She easily threw his words back in his face, “Don’t make an issue between us, an issue for the team.” She added, throwing him a bone.

He bit, “So you do admit there’s an issue between us?” He asked as he let go of her.

Natasha could have taken it anywhere. But what did he want to hear? What would he believe? She took in a deep breath, feigning hesitation, “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

He shook his head.

Natasha let out an exasperated sigh, “Look, I know we’ve grown apart. I just…I’ve been having trouble sleeping. I keep…thinking about that night.”

His eyes flashed. Was that fear?

She knew he was thinking of _a different night…_

“That night?” He asked softly.

_The door was slightly open. She reached out and gave it a gentle push…_

“The night in Russia.” She clarified, snapping herself back into reality, “When we almost died.”

He seemed relieved (that she wasn’t referencing a different time), but equally just as troubled by her admission. She could tell he wanted her to continue, wanted to believe it- believe that she was confiding in him.

And to be fair, it was partly true. She found it easier to lie when a portion of it was the truth.

She pulled from her own memories, from her own dreams, and threaded them together in a way that was relevant to him, “I keep thinking about that moment…when you were willing to die…for me.” She paused, “My life isn’t worth enough for you to sacrifice yours. And if you had…I don’t think I could have lived with killing Captain America.”

Steve looked like he wasn’t sure what to say.

“I don’t think I could have lived with killing _you_.” She shook her head, “You’re compromised…and I can’t have that.” She shrugged, “If we aren’t friends then we aren’t vulnerable. You _have_ to be okay with leaving me behind. You _can’t_ be compromised.”

“And you aren’t?” He asked it swiftly, with no thought behind it, and she could see that for a split second afterwards, he wanted to take it back.

But he’d put it out there- so she had to respond.

“No.”

It was short, and painful.

And one of the hardest lies she’d ever had to tell.

Steve’s blinked, not completely caught off guard by her answer, but defeated, nonetheless. And then, to her surprise, he didn’t sink lower or react in anger. Instead, his eyes gained a new layer of certainty and depth. He stepped forward, “Well, I’m always gonna be compromised, Nat.” He smiled a little bit, “It’s who I am. I’m sorry that it isn’t practical, but you can’t stop loving because it’s easier. Or safer.”

Nat paused at the mention of love. She met his eyes, actually a bit surprised, and let herself convey that to him.

“I’m never gonna leave you behind.” Steve moved swiftly past her confused look, returning back to the conversation, “So there’s really no point in trying to change it. And I’ve told you that.” He stared down at her, a deep look in his eyes, a meaningful one. It looked familiar.

_You know you’re safe with me, right?_

“I don’t know if this is overstepping, but…” He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her.

She didn’t stop him.

_Don’t stop._

His shield was awkwardly positioned against her back, the metal pressing against her.

Natasha didn’t know what to make of it. She let her arms snake around him too, taking in the moment. For all she knew, this would be the last time they’d be able to do this. 

After a few moments, he pulled away from her.

Natasha looked up at him, shaking her head, “I guess we can compromise about space…” She joked lightly.

But Steve wasn’t smiling.

That was when she noticed his hand rising. In it, he was grasping the flash drive. She didn’t even bother checking her pocket- it was obvious the move he’d made. Honestly, it was something right out of her own book. Why hadn’t she expected that?

She didn’t let herself frown. She didn’t let herself react at all.

“Why don’t we rewind?” Steve said, ironic frustration in his voice, “Maybe back to how all of this feels too familiar.”

Natasha sighed, staring at him. Now, she had to do damage control, “You had to trust me then…and I need you to trust me now, Steve.” She said tactfully, “I don’t do things without a reason.”

Steve looked disappointed by her answer, “Was everything you just said a lie?” His voice was raising now, his face red, “I know you have a reason for doing things, Nat. But I don’t know if I can count on those reasons…especially when you didn’t trust me enough to tell me about them.” He shook his head, anger rising, “You have 10 seconds to start talking or this drive is getting a treatment from my shield.” He said threateningly.

Natasha looked at him, “It’s Fury. He needed intel…I owe everything to him.” She sighed, “I had to follow through.”

“When does the lying end, Natasha?” Steve retorted, using her full name- which felt much too formal, “Fury has been offline for _months_. And unluckily for _you,_ I spoke with Hill a week ago and she said he’d just gotten a new start with the FBI intelligence.” He shook his head- as they were in an FBI-controlled base right now, “Try again.”

Natasha didn’t panic. There was still a way she could spin this, “I don’t know what to do, Steve.” She said, emotion in her voice, “If I tell you, people die. If I don’t, you destroy the drive that could save them…” She paused, “Listen, I’m asking you to look past the lies, past everything, and let yourself be compromised… _let yourself believe me._ ”

Steve looked like he almost considered that. Almost. But then he shook his head again, “We can solve this together. There’s always another way…and stealing intel isn’t the answer.” He moved, looking like he was going to throw the drive to the ground.

But that was when Natasha struck.

Swiftly and viciously, she kicked him between the legs and then seized the drive from his hand, which had weakened with the blow. For the split second that he was subdued, she struck again, “I’m sorry, Steve.” She said before hitting him in the chest and then once again in the face.

In a last ditch move, she threw a taser dart at him and then ran for the door, but behind her, she heard the sound of the dart hitting metal. He’d blocked it.

With his enhanced speed, he quickly caught up to her.

She turned back towards him just in time to duck under one of his punches. A second quickly followed, which landed heavily on her already injured side. The blow made tears spring to her eyes.

Another fist came towards her, but then slowed with hesitation. He must have realized the side he’d hit- that he’d accidentally utilized her weakness/vulnerability.

But Natasha took advantage of that hesitation. She pulled another taser dart from her belt and threw it into his arm. It landed on his bicep, immediately causing him to tighten as the shock went through his muscles.

Natasha went for the door again, blinking the tears from her eyes. She thought about her next steps- where to go from here- what the quickest exit would be.

But then she felt something hard hit her back. The force from the blow sent her flying towards the ground. As she fell, her back throbbed- and she knew what had happened. Behind her, she heard the sound of his shield returning to the strap on Steve’s arm.

So that was what it felt to get hit by it.

She couldn’t say it was pleasant.

He was on her before she could get to her feet again. Quickly, he flipped her over, holding her down onto the ground, and taking the flash drive forcefully out of her hand, “That hurt.” He nodded to small welt on his arm where the taser dart had shocked him.

Natasha nodded to his shield, “Well _that_ hurt too.”

Steve scoffed, “Wanna tell me about this now?” He held up the flash drive, “I’d start begging, but it turns out…I’m the one with the real leverage now.”

Natasha coughed.

“I’m not falling for this again.” She felt Steve’s force holding her down on the ground intensify.

Turning her head to the side, Natasha coughed again, much more forcefully this time. Her chest burned- and the blood that she spit out onto the white floor further confirmed her injuries. She took in a strained breath, the bitter taste of blood in her mouth, “You were saying…” She raised her eyebrows.

“Damn it, Nat.” Steve loosened his grip slightly, “You’re really not making this easy.”

She took in another wheezing breath, “Well, what did you expect?” She said, almost smiling.

Steve was quickly reminded of who she was- the relationship they had- and she was remembering that too. He didn’t move off of her, but he relieved some of the pressure he had been holding her down with, “You can tell me.” He said shortly, “You trust me, remember? Or was that just a lie too?” He paused, as if it had all dawned on him in that moment, “Was it all a ploy, from the beginning? Even…”

Natasha’s chest tightened. She felt trapped, in more ways than one. The solution here was easy- she needed to trick him, manipulate him into letting her go, but she wasn’t sure that she could muster it. Why did she have to give up the only people she’d ever learned to trust? The people who’d saved her…and made her into something better.

Another coughing fit struck suddenly, forcing her to expel more blood onto the floor. The grip Steve had on her continued to loosen- she could get out of this easily. Three moves and he’d be fooled, but instead, blood dripping from her mouth slightly, she met his eyes, “You know Clint used to be the only person I thought I could trust. And before him, the only two constants in my life were money and death.” She paused, “But now I have you too.” She met his eyes, “I never imagined I would have to juggle this much trust…”

Steve felt her tapping on his elbow. He wanted to listen to her words, but he forced himself to focus on the pattern. She was a spy- and she’d done this before- he was quickly reminded that Morse code was how Clint had found her after Ultron took her captive. The tapping was rhythmic, repeating the same phrase over and over again.

“And in reality…I probably shouldn’t have let you trust me.” She shook her head, “Because it was inevitable that I would betray you.”

Steve stared down at her, finally translating the code to get what she was trying to tell him: _My past is back for me._

He met her eyes and she blinked, nodding slightly, knowing that he’d gotten the message. So she continued by tapping something new: _You have to let me go._

Steve shook his head, processing it, “But I still trust you.” He replied, trying to juggle both conversations at once, which he was finding exceedingly difficult.

But she didn’t seem bothered at all, “Don’t you get it? I’m not on your side anymore!” She shook her head, tapping a new line.

_They’re going to take away the only thing I have left to lose._

Steve’s heart wrenched as he realized he didn’t even know what that was. Her dignity? Her mind? He wasn’t sure, and he could tell that the stakes were high, but letting her go? Why couldn’t they face it together? He was about to say something else that aligned with the conversation, further conveying his desire for her stay, but he was interrupted by a figure that had just appeared in the doorway.

A man dressed in all black- as the other hostiles had been- entered the room they were in, a gun drawn.

Steve immediately turned, trying to spot where his shield was, but it was too far away for him to reach it while still holding Natasha down.

“Captain Rogers.” He remarked, “What an honor.” He had a thick Russian accent that was hard to understand when his speech was muffled by his black mask.

Steve sighed in annoyance, “This really isn’t a good time.” He glared at the man, knowing that he could have him down in 10 seconds, but if he got up, Natasha would probably take the opportunity to run, “I’ll give you the chance to walk out of here alive. You have 5 seconds.”

But the man didn’t budge. His head moved down to look at Natasha and he uttered a sentence in Russian that Steve obviously didn’t understand.

Natasha replied quickly- again in Russian.

Steve shook his head, “You’re working together.” He said with heavy realization.

But then he felt a light tapping on his arm again: _Attack on my signal._

Natasha veered up quickly, kneeing him between the legs. Not very hard, but with enough force to make him pause- he reminded himself that he needed to trust her. She’d told him the truth- or at least he believed it to be the truth.

So he hunched over, letting out a groan of pain. This gave her the time to knee him in the stomach and push him off of her. He made an attempt to pull her back, but she elbowed him in the face. This one was forceful, causing him to actually rear back in pain.

Finally, she was on her feet ahead of him. She turned back towards him and gave him a harsh kick to the face. For a moment, he considered that this wasn’t all a ruse. And he was purposefully not fighting back. Was he just playing into her game? Letting her go…

Natasha leaned down towards him, “Stay down and wait…” She breathed into his ear, causing chills to travel down his spine. After that, she gave him another intimate punch to the face.

At that point, he let himself go limp on the ground. Obscured by one of the tables, the man couldn’t see his face, so Steve was able to keep his eyes open and watch.

A few feet ahead of him, he saw a gun on the ground. That hadn’t been there before- she must have left it for him.

Near the doorway, they spoke a few more sentences in Russian before he saw Natasha’s figure move towards the other man. Her feet were almost even with his. Their faces had to be inches apart.

Steve moved slightly on the floor so that he could see what they were doing without the table obstructing his view. As he did so, he picked up the gun that had been laying on the floor in front of him.

As he peered out, he saw that Natasha had just leaned in towards the man, who now had his mask off and was showing his face. He looked to be about the same age as they were, a light beard on his chin. Nat moved towards him, whispering, and then brushed her lips against his.

Softly, seductively.

Steve gulped.

_Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable._

This had to be the signal. Even if it wasn’t, it was still a good opportunity.

Natasha deepened the kiss, both of them closing their eyes.

Steve stood up slowly. If they hadn’t been so immersed, they would have seen him. But he still didn’t shoot. They were too close together- and he didn’t want to hit Nat by accident. He moved closer, but was still apprehensive.

Until Nat pulled away from the man and pushed him backwards slightly, separating herself from him.

Steve was quick to react. He shot twice, the second shot hitting where he’d aimed, killing the man instantly.

When he’d fallen down, Steve and Natasha finally had the chance to exchange a look. He raised his eyebrows and she shrugged, “What? At least I wiped the blood off my mouth before I did it.” She smirked.

Steve rolled his eyes, “Good move.” He sighed, “Now, are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

Natasha looked around the room, eyeing it as if it were listening. She moved closer to him, her voice a whisper, “Not here.”

“Then where?” Steve hissed back.

Natasha sighed, “I’m leaving. I have to.” She paused, eyeing his disappointed expression before adding, “You can either watch me…or come with me.” She breathed, her voice still barely audible.

Steve paused for a moment, processing what she’d said, before a large smile began to spread across his face, “You trust me.”

Natasha kept her eyes locked with his, steady and focused- and he wasn’t sure if that was a response or not. Softly, she continued, “Take your comms out. Kill the cameras. It’s all gotta go. No one can know what happened here.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay with this chapter! Thanks for all the love-- can't wait to get into even more angst with these two! ;)

They’d been walking for hours. Even though he was a super soldier and had enhanced endurance, he was tired from the events of the day. His shield felt heavier than usual, weighing down the backpack where it was concealed on his back.

A few steps ahead of him was Natasha, who hadn’t said a word to him since they’d ditched their car a few miles back. She hadn’t slowed down with any kind of complaint since they’d begun.

Without anyone to talk to, he had to entertain himself with this scenery. For the past few miles, it had been thick forest. They’d been dragging themselves through the thick roots without a path- but he noticed Natasha eyeing a compass every so often- so she had to know where they were going.

He, on the other hand, had no idea.

The forest was the most boring portion of their journey. It was dark- everything looked the same- every root, every branch, it all felt sinister and unforgiving. Or maybe that was just what he was thinking about all of this- about the mission they were embarking on…which he still didn’t know the details of.

Finally, they emerged from the woods, walking through a stretch of meadow before reaching civilization. It looked like they were coming up on a town. He could see street lights through the darkness.

He thought they might have been heading for the center of the small-ish town until Natasha veered left and began walking away from most of the lights.

Luckily for Steve, who was hoping this journey wouldn’t extend too much longer, she seemed to be heading for a nearby house.

That was the first time he saw Natasha’s steps falter slightly. Her limp, which had been unpronounced before, became extremely apparent. She let out a series of coughs, but tensed up- forcing herself to stop, probably so that she didn’t make too much noise.

Steve remembered how his shield had hit her- probably directly in her weakened ribs. How could he have exploited her weaknesses like that? He felt guilt bubbling up in his stomach but tried to push it down by reminding himself that she had acted hostile towards him first.

It still wasn’t an excuse.

Natasha went up to the back door of the house.

For a moment, Steve got nervous that they were breaking into a home that someone actually lived in. Was it her plan to kill the family that lived there?

He knew that he was only thinking that because of the way she’d been acting, like a spy, the way he’d imagined she’d acted before they met.

But there was a small box attached to the doorknob- it had a code lock on it. She quickly typed in a code and then twisted the knob to push the door open.

The doorway opened into the kitchen, and from it, he could see the living room ahead of them too. It was quaint- a comfortable looking couch at its center. And all he wanted to do was collapse on it.

But before he could take another step, Natasha was falling down in front of him. Legs giving out, she collapsed to her hands and knees.

Steve kicked the door shut behind them and dropped to his knees by her side, “Nat, are you alright?” He noticed that there was still a small amount of dried blood at the corner of her mouth, which unsettled him.

She wheezed lightly, obviously trying to catch her breath, “I’m okay. I just wasn’t sure I was gonna make it.” She creased her eyebrows, “I think the adrenaline was pushing me through…until a little bit ago.” Her face constricted with pain.

Steve lifted her off the ground and moved them to the living room, placing her on the couch, “What can I do?”

Natasha’s face was pale and sweaty, but her gaze was still as focused as ever, “There’s a medicine cabinet in the bathroom- there might be bandages and pills in it.” She said before letting out a light cough.

Steve nodded, not wasting any time. He quickly went down a hallway, but all it led to was a small laundry room. He looked around, realizing that he didn’t know where he was going.

“Steve.”

He re-entered the living room, sending a smile in her direction, which she returned before nodding to his right. He went through the kitchen and spotted another narrow hallway that opened into a dining room at the front of the house. But a small door to his left caught his attention.

When he entered, he was glad to find that it was the bathroom he’d been looking for. The medicine cabinet, as she’d described, had bandages and all different types of pills inside. He wasn’t sure which she’d prefer so he grabbed a few bottles.

This had to be a safe house of some kind- he noticed that the decorations were particularly bland- no pictures, no signs that anyone lived here full time. He assumed that it probably remained unused most of the time.

Then, he returned to her side, holding out the bottles he’d picked up.

Natasha reached out and took one of them, popping a few pills in her mouth before turning back to him, “Do you know how to bandage ribs?” She pulled her shirt up above her stomach- but not all the way off, just exposing the bottom part of her bra.

Steve nodded, his eyes catching on the redness of her skin that already looked to be bruising. He helped her roll onto her side, but it looked to be causing her a significant amount of pain so he started talking, “So, you finally gonna tell me where we are?”

Natasha gave a small smile, aware of his attempt to distract her. She seemed amused by it, “Thank you, for staying quiet…and waiting…” She paused, “And for coming with me.”

Steve met her eyes, “Thanks for asking me to.”

Natasha took in a sharp breath as he tightened the bandage around her midsection, “If you think about it…asking you to do _anything_ for me after everything was pretty crazy.” She paused, “But you still came.”

Steve was grateful that she appreciated the sacrifice he’d made. It meant that she really understood, or was at least trying to understand, what this meant for him too, “Yea, well, my schedule wasn’t exactly _packed_.” He shook his head, “I’m just glad that you don’t have to do this alone.”

Natasha’s expression hardened, her guard going back up. She went on, speaking carefully, “I don’t know if I was clear before, but this is the Red Room, Steve.” Her tone was serious, “They captured me during our mission in Russia and are blackmailing me into doing their bidding again.” She met his eyes, “And if they find out I pulled you into this…” She shook her head.

“They won’t.” Steve asserted as he finally finished bandaging her.

Natasha nodded in response, “That’s the plan...” She said as she pulled her shirt back down over her stomach, “We’re in Roswell, New Mexico…you may know it from…” She trailed off, “Well actually, you probably don’t know it.” She cracked a small smile, “Regardless, I’m supposed to meet with some operatives from the Red Room tomorrow in a warehouse further into town.”

Steve took a seat on a nearby chair, happy to finally be off his feet, “And you’re gonna give them the drive?” He leaned forward, “That has US secrets on it, ones that they and the Russian government could use against us…”

“I have to give it to them.” Natasha replied blankly.

Steve didn’t understand. How could she be so nonchalant about this? He shook his head, “No, I thought you inviting me here meant that you wanted to fight them on this- and make sure that this information didn’t get into the wrong hands.”

Natasha lifted her eyes from the ground to meet his again, “I never said I didn’t want to fight.” She replied, “But if we’re going to… _shut them down for good_ , we need to get to the source.” She paused, “We’re gonna track the drive.”

Steve relaxed a bit, although he still didn’t like the idea of handing over any type of intel to hostiles, “So you think they’re fully up and running again?”

Natasha looked away from him then- her eyes stony and distant. He could tell that he was nearing a touchy subject, “I’m not sure they ever stopped.” She shrugged, “When I was with SHIELD, we thought for a while that they’d been shut down…I stopped running into other operatives in the field. I stopped getting contacted.” She shook her head, “But I should have realized that was what they wanted.”

Steve creased his eyebrows.

“They were closing ranks.” Natasha clarified, “Clearing out the old generations that were corrupt and sloppy…and starting new.”

Steve understood then, but he wasn’t sure what that meant for her, or if he wanted to ask. He decided to keep in professional- and not force anything, “New operatives, new technology, and new tactics, no doubt.” He added, “They probably aren’t the same Red Room you remember.”

“Probably not.” She replied, nodding along to his point, but it didn’t look like she wanted to add anything. Sinking backwards into the couch, he would have thought she was trying to fall asleep if he didn’t see her hand rhythmically tapping against her own arm.

Steve let himself lean back too. He forced himself to stare at the ceiling for a few moments, but it wasn’t long before his gaze returned to her. From the angle he was at now, he couldn’t tell if her eyes were closed or not.

What had he gotten himself into? He’d given up _everything_. And he’d done it for a partner that he’d been rocky with for weeks, one that he barely knew anything about.

He’d be crazy not to have doubts. And there was no way she was going to reassure him. He knew that it was never up her alley to babysit anyone, especially not during a mission or in the field.

So he’d have to deal with this confliction on his own, wouldn’t he? Leaving behind his good standing and reputation, betraying his country, for her. His friend. Who he cared about. He took a moment to think about how he would have felt if she’d gone missing on her own.

The grief and betrayal that would have wrecked him when he’d found out she had taken the things they’d been assigned to protect. When he found out that she really never did tell him anything.

At least she’d trusted him with this.

Trusted him to come- be by her side. And here he was, sitting in a farmhouse with her, watching her breathing as she seemingly drifted into some semblance of sleep. This- it was definitely worth it. Because the alternative, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to bear it.

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

He blinked a few times, watching her, but her frame hadn’t moved. Had she really just spoken? Or had he imagined that? Then, he noticed the tapping again- her finger was still tapping lightly, thoughtfully.

She _had_ said it.

“For what?” He replied softly, a real question. He wasn’t sure exactly what she was referencing. Sorry for punching him so hard, maybe. Sorry for the way she’d treated him, or maybe for kissing the other man in front of him.

No, she had no reason to be sorry about that, he quickly reminded himself.

Maybe she was apologizing for _that night_ …or did she even see that as a mistake? He wasn’t even sure what _he_ saw it as.   
“For the distance.” She responded quietly, vaguely, but he understood immediately what she meant- the gap of knowledge- the distance that she kept him at, never letting him get too close, “I was just thinking about…what all of this must seem like for you. It isn’t fair that you’ve put everything on the line for me and I haven’t returned the favor.”

Steve wasn’t sure how to respond. He wanted to comfort her, but at the same time, he wanted to let himself be comforted _by_ her.

Turning slightly on the couch, as hard as that seemed, she faced him. Her arms were wrapped around her own midsection, maybe to reduce the discomfort from her ribs. He could tell immediately by the look on her face that she was uneasy. He hadn’t seen her like this in a while- so uncomfortable, unsure.

He took a moment, considering, and then cut in, “You have nothing to prove to me.” He said simply, “It means enough to me that you _would_ trust me enough to tell me about your past.” He paused, meeting her eyes, noticing that she seemed genuinely caught off guard ( _for once)_ , “But you don’t have to now.”

For a moment, she processed that. It seemed like she didn’t have a response prepared for it. A small smile began playing at her lips as she looked away, “I should have expected something like that from you.”

Steve paused, not knowing how to respond to that, “Something like what?”

Natasha shook her head, as if he were oblivious for not seeing it, “You putting my feelings before yours, even now…when you’ve been so obviously hurt by me.” She was still smiling, although now it seemed sadder, “I don’t deserve that.”

He tensed, thinking of her soft footsteps coming through his doorway. Thinking of velvet…

He looked up at her then, searching, and noted that her eyes were tired and glazed over. He realized that the day must have exhausted her. He had almost forgotten that the serum prepared him to have the stamina for all of this, but she was completely normal.

Well, not _completely._

But she was tired. He could see it on her face- maybe that was why she was showing so much more vulnerability now too. He’d heard her talk like this before, but never with any emotion in her voice, never with any sort of expression at all. She was a master at concealment. But now, he was seeing more of her than he ever had.

And he didn’t know how to respond to it.

Luckily, she went on before he had the chance to, “I was wrong to have pushed you away. I don’t have any excuses. I took cards from my old book and used your weaknesses against you…” Her voice lacked its usual conviction and energy. She sounded exhausted- not only just from the day, but also from the emotions that were coming up now. Her eyes avoided his.

And that was when he knew, “I don’t believe that.” He said boldly, challenging her, although she didn’t look enticed to fight back, “I can tell that’s not the real reason…” He paused- and then added, more calmly, “Talk to me.”

There was a long moment of silence between them where tension seemed to hang for much longer than it should have.

Natasha looked like she wanted to hesitate again, but didn’t let herself, “I’m sorry. For lying, _again_.” Another sad smile appeared on her face, “I _was_ wrong to have pushed you away…but I really did it because…I care about you too much. And I knew that if the time came for me to betray you, it would be impossible. Unless I created the environment for distance and conflict and resentment. And I’m so sorry that I did that.” She took a moment, her eyes lifting to his, uncharacteristically apologetic, “Truly.”

Steve wasn’t sure where to go from there. A part of him was hurt that her knee-jerk instinct was to push him away _because_ of their bond. But at the same time, it was just as hard for him to hear that she’d felt like it had been necessary because _she_ cared about _him_ too much. That was new- he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her admit something like that so blatantly before.

It meant a lot to him, regardless of the circumstances, “I know you’re sorry…and I understand why you did it. We really did go about all of this in a twisted way, didn’t we?” He offered a small smile, a truce, “Next time, can’t you just fake your own death or do something a little bit easier to swallow?”

Natasha’s eyes widened in surprise at his attempt at a joke. She let out a burst of laughter that seemed to cause some discomfort to her ribs, but she didn’t look very bothered, “ _That_ would be easier for you to swallow? I honestly don’t think I’d be able to pull one over on you, after everything you’ve gone through with Barnes.” She said, still smiling (which he returned), but then, she deepened her expression into a more earnest moment, “Thank you, Steve, for understanding.”

Steve could have spent the entire night like this, staring at her as she smiled, a truly _real_ smile- which he felt like was too rare for her these days. He could have spent eternity in this silence, this mutual appreciation and trust, this _look_ between them. His eyes were glued to hers and he didn’t even think to look for anything behind them, or _try to see_ , because he didn’t need to. Because he could feel her. Her eyes locked with his. The warmth of her smile.

The moment extended for a few moments before he finally spoke, “You know, we should talk about what happened that night a few weeks ago-”

“Yea, we should.” She agreed quickly, as if she’d been on the verge of saying the same thing. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took in a breath, “I shouldn’t have made everything so _personal._ Logistically, I used that night to put a wedge between us, so that you would give me space and I could go forward with the Red Room.”

Steve looked away from her, unsure why it hurt more to hear her say it all out loud- when he knew he should have expected it.

She didn’t take her eyes away from him though, “But personally, I’m not really sure...” She paused, “I think a part of me wanted to feel close to you...before I had to let you go.”

Steve sighed quietly, listening, but not able to respond.

Nat waited a few moments before going on, “And that night did mean something to me. I think that’s why I’m still confused about it…and I don’t really have the right to be. But I promise not to write it off like it didn’t matter.” There was hesitation in her voice, emotion. Deep and tortured, “And I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

Steve took a few moments to think, to take in what she’d said, and shake away the thought of her touch and the sound of her voice through the darkness, “I’m not gonna say it’s okay, because it isn’t.” He sighed, “But I’m willing to move past it if you are.”

Natasha nodded slowly, but didn’t look ready to say anything.

“What?” Steve asked, noticing her hesitation.

Natasha met his eyes, “I’m just not sure we can pretend like it didn’t happen.” She said, and when she noticed the confusion on his face, she continued, “The reason I pulled this move in the first place is because I knew that there was something there. A feeling, or an attraction, maybe.”

Steve held his gaze steady, and asked the question, even though he knew the answer, even though he knew exactly what she was talking about, “What do you mean?”

Natasha smiled, but it wasn’t her charismatic one, it was a disbelieving one, “Okay, Steve. If that’s how you want to play this.”

He wasn’t sure how, but she had all the power back again. And he was back on defense. He wanted to backtrack and figure out what she meant. But he didn’t. Instead, he let the silence sit for a few moments before saying, “Maybe I would have had a different outlook a few weeks ago...” And then adding, “But for right now, I just don’t want it to change us.”

Natasha looked up, her eyes saying:

_As if it didn’t already._

But her lips only uttering a weak, but accepting, “I know.”

There was a stillness between them then. Neither one of them dared to move, or meet the others gaze.

Steve gulped and then finally leaned forward, “That is, unless…” He trailed on, seeing her look up curiously, “Unless you don’t already have a date to prom this year?”

Natasha stared at him, obviously holding back a laugh as a relieving smile sunk into her face. She grabbed a pillow off of the couch and slung it at him.

He caught it, but flinched backwards, “I’m guessing that’s a no?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Do I seem like the prom type?”

Steve raised his eyebrows, “On the outside, no. But I know deep down, you’re more of a softie than you let on.” He said playfully, although he meant it, “I mean, you brought me on this bonding trip, didn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” She said, her eyes closing, and the small smile on her face slowly disappearing until she forced her eyes to open again, to look into his- they seemed pensive, but avoidant, “Look, Steve, this isn’t gonna be like anything you’ve ever done. We’re gonna have to do things _my_ way.”

Steve was caught off guard by that change in subject. Was she misunderstanding his gesture? He nodded to convey that he understood, “I know. This isn’t a joke to me. I was just trying to lighten the mood.” He clarified, not wanting to seem like he was coming off as nonchalant about this whole thing.

“I know that.” Natasha said, nodding quickly as she reached out slightly with her hand in a small gesture to reassure him, which fell short by a few inches. But he still got the intent, “I just want to prepare you. There are only a few things in this world that can…get to me.” She paused, “And the Red Room is one of those things- they won’t go down lightly. They’ll always be one step ahead of us, even if we’re ten ahead of them.”

“Then we’ll take an eleventh.” He said, his resolve unwavering. He wanted to convey confidence to her. He wanted her to see that he believed they could do it, that he trusted in their abilities. 

But she didn’t look convinced.

She was distancing again, and he could see it. Not just in her posture, which had stiffened quite a bit, but also in her eyes- they had their classic blankness. The kind that he received whenever he mentioned her childhood, or her family, or her training. It always unsettled him. Those green pools, which he’d seen been filled just moments before, were now just walls- ones that he could stare into for hours without gaining a single inch. Strong, and unrenouncing, he knew that every single brick had been painstakingly put in place.

And he couldn’t stand to be on the other side of it again.

“Nat, what’s going on?” He asked, the question vague, but also open enough for her to reply in any way that she needed to.

Well, in any way that he needed her to.

She had to.

He wasn’t sure what he’d do if they went back to square one.

It took her a few moments to think about how to reply. Her eyes traced over memories that he couldn’t see, that she wouldn’t let him even get a taste of. Her frown deepened slightly in thought, but her shoulders relaxed. He liked to think that it was because of him, sitting there with her, caring about what she had to say- he wasn’t sure that many people had- not in her past, at least.

“Everything they do has a reason. A larger plan. An agenda.” She said darkly, definitively. This wasn’t interpretation, this was fact, “They want to pull me right back into their games and I just feel like every step I take is further into their trap.” She shook her head, looking both sad and conflicted, “They will do anything to further their agenda, Steve. _Anything._ ” She paused, “ _I_ would have done anything…and I know they have people now who will too. There is never good to look for. There is never a better option, or a compromise, or a solution.”

“Then what is there?” Steve asked, confused by what she was trying to convey, “How do we win?”

When he didn’t receive an answer, he looked over at her, but she was staring forward- in a trance-like state. For the first time in a long time, he saw the slightest amount of fear in her eyes. It was a sobering moment- one where he realized that she’d never done this before- she wasn’t the experienced leader that he knew, she was struggling to find footing after the ground had fallen out from under her.

Her eyes were vacant- lost in a world he’d never know.

He knew that look and he wanted to comfort her, but a small voice in the back of his mind told him not to make the same mistake twice. Not to cross the lines they’d just so clearly defined.

But he got up before he could stop himself and he went over to her. She didn’t react so he took hers hands in his and pulled her forward gently – until she was fully in a sitting position- and she’d swung her legs over the side of the couch. But she was still looking beyond him, the only expression on her face the slightest twinge of pain that he assumed was because of moving her ribs.

But when he finally took a seat down on the couch too, her eyes snapped to him. Focused, but still lost, and drained, “You don’t have to say anything...” She said quietly, anticipating his thoughts, anticipating his need to make everything better.

He took in a heavy breath and leaned back against the couch so that they were side-by-side. They were touching without meaning to, his thigh against hers, their arms overlapping, “I wasn’t going to.”

He saw her smile, out of the corner of his eye. And then, just as he closed his eyes, he felt her head move to rest against his shoulder.

Her touch felt familiar, painful, but he comforted her nonetheless. They were starting new- putting it behind them- being _friends_ …

For a while, they were truly at peace- he ran through his thoughts, let his body relax, and she slumped pretty early on- he knew she must have been exhausted.

Right when he started to wonder if he should move her to a bed or somewhere more comfortable, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Opening his eyes so that he could scan the room, all he saw was that it looked empty- untouched, just as they’d found it when they came in.

But when his eyes went back over the windows in front of him, something in the reflection caught his attention. A figure.

Someone was standing directly behind him.

He felt his whole body tense and he almost involuntary started to look back at who it was, but before he could, the sound of a gun cocking reached his ears and he felt the cool touch of its barrel against the back of his head.

Steve wasn’t sure what to do. From what he could tell, Natasha was still asleep- he needed to wake her, he needed her help. But the gun against his head gave him a pretty good reason to stay still, “Who are you?” He asked, as loudly as he dared to.

The figure’s face was concealed by a black hoodie pulled over his head. He moved forward ominously, like he was thinking about just shooting Steve then, but he stopped himself.

His breathing was heavy, uneasy.

He seemed unsure about what to do- even more so, he seemed vulnerable- scared, uncomfortable, even intimidated. But why? If he’d been sent here or was looking for them, wouldn’t he have been prepared?

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eyes, Steve saw Natasha’ figure lurch- which surprised him, because a few moments ago, she’d seemed to be dead asleep.

Having the element of surprise, she managed to knock the gun out of the assailant’s hands to where it clattered to the floor. But that seemed to snap the intruder out of whatever doubt or uneasiness he’d been wallowing in because he lunged forward, grabbing Nat’s neck.

Steve turned, elbowing the man in the face, which caused him to loosen his grip on Natasha. As the man stumbled backwards in pain, they locked eyes. And again, he looked terrified.

But Natasha didn’t waste the moment- she never did.

She leaped over the back of the couch and retrieved the gun that had been knocked to the floor. Aiming it at their attacker, she raised her eyebrows, “I hope you thought this one through.” She said plainly.

The room fell still- and to Steve, in that moment, everything slowed down.

The man’s eyes darted from Steve to Natasha- fear evident in his gaze. He put his hands up in defense, but it was too late- and he knew it.

Natasha kept her expression calm and blank. The gun in her hands didn’t falter, and without hesitation, without another word or thought, she shot the man point blank in the chest.

The man fell backwards, hitting the wooden floors with a hard thump. He didn’t move after that- either unconscious or dead by the looks of it.

Steve didn’t know what to think- everything had happened quicker than he’d been able to process. Who even was this man? Did they have the right to shoot him? An unsettling feeling bubbled up in his stomach as he watched Natasha nonchalantly move into the kitchen and begin popping more pills in her mouth.

The man’s body laid coldly between them.

Slowly, he stood from his spot on the couch. He watched her from where he was, but she didn’t seem to notice- continuing to rummage through the kitchen. There was nothing in her demeanor that would have signified the action she’d just committed. Did human life not mean as much to her? Was this something she was used to?

Either option sickened him. He thought of confronting her, asking her these questions, but he wasn’t sure he could find the voice to do it. All he could think about was the look on Natasha’s face as she’d done it.

Cold and unrelenting.

He’d never seen eyes so blank and threatening- he wondered if he’d ever be on the receiving end of one of those glares- one of those looks that was as deadly as whatever weapon she chose to wield, one that killed.

He realized he’d never had to think about this with anyone else he’d ever known, never doubted someone so deeply. His eyes moved back to her again as she put on a jacket and stuffed the pill bottles into its pocket.

He couldn’t quite identify what he was feeling- but it was mostly anger. Anger at her for being so rash and desensitized. For being the monster that she feared she was reverting back to. For not being who he thought she was.

For being the same girl that had come into his room that night a few weeks ago.

Just as he started considering how to tell her all of this, she made a quick movement, walking back towards him, “Well, you just gonna stand there?” She raised her eyebrows, “We gotta go.”

Steve blinked- how was she brushing past everything that had just happened? He slipped his shoes on, but couldn’t leave his feelings unacknowledged, “Are we gonna talk about what just happened?” He gestured to the man, “Are we just gonna leave him here?”

But Natasha was already stepping out the door.

“Natasha!” Steve called harshly, his tone biting for once. She was rubbing off on him. He grabbed a jacket as he crossed through the living room area, passing the body, and entered the kitchen, “Answer me.”

Natasha stepped back into the doorway. She looked around the room, as if someone else were there. Her eyes lost their blankness for a moment, conveying urgency and fear. She was afraid. She gestured out into the night, “Come _on_ , Steve.” She urged, her voice sounding more pleading than demanding.

Steve went with her then. The desperation in her eyes was enough to get him out the door, but not enough to persuade him to follow her without another word. As they trudged back towards the dark forest they’d come from earlier, he tried again, “You gonna talk to me now, or do I have to wait 20 miles again?”

He knew that she’d caught the sarcasm in his tone because she slowed down, her posture straightening in what he knew was tense annoyance. Turning her head slightly so that he could see the side of her face, she replied, “They found us.” She shrugged as if it were as simple as that, “If they sent one exploratory agent, no doubt there are more on his tail. If we’d stayed, we’d be dead in the next hour, maybe less.” Her tone was patronizing, “That a good enough explanation for you?”

Steve decided to let her remark go. That wasn’t the fight he wanted to have right now. He was still more curious about their situation, “So the Red Room found us? Why would they even be looking if you’re supposed to meet them tomorrow?”

“It wasn’t the Red Room.” Natasha replied, “It was SHIELD.”

Steve shook his head, “How do you even know that? You didn’t even speak a word to him.”

Natasha stopped walking. He wasn’t sure if it was out of frustration or out of just regular exhaustion. Her limp was back in full-fledged glory and her hand across her side indicated that her ribs were probably bothering her. Either way, though, she turned to look at him, eyes as alive and heated as ever, “I didn’t need to. Didn’t you see the way he hesitated when he got to you?” She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

The pause. The heavy-set hesitation. He remembered.

What was she implying?

Natasha seemed even more frustrated that she was having to spell it out for him, “You’re Captain America! Everyone in SHIELD is loyal to you- especially after everything that happened last time they turned on you.” She finally said, “And if that wasn’t enough, maybe I knew because of the SHIELD issued gun, or the stealth emblems on his gloves, or the look of recognition and fear in his eyes when he saw me.”

Steve believed her. He believed that the man was from SHIELD- that part made sense, but it only made the rest of the situation even more disturbing, “So you knew he was from SHIELD and then you just killed him in cold blood?” He asked, appalled.

He watched her, waiting for a reaction, waiting for her to see his point, but she didn’t give him anything.

He could have been talking to a statue- he’d never seen anyone stand so still. Her eyes were the only part of her that moved- looking past him, deeper into the forest, before meeting his own confused gaze.

He saw her reply on her face before he even heard her say anything- quiet and hurt, “So that’s what you think of me.” Her voice was deep with comprehension, finality.

Steve wasn’t sure how to reply. In that moment, _yes_ , that is what he thought of her. But he didn’t think that was _who_ she was…that was why he was so angry. Because he expected more from her- because he knew she was better. He wanted to tell her all of that, but couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Because of the sound of the gun shooting- because of the way the man collided with the ground- because of how still he was after that. Discarded, disrespected- dead.

At her hands.

A small smile came to her face then- but it was more dejected than anything. He felt her eyes on him, looking over him one last time, like she was taking this moment in, making sure to remember it. Finally, she looked up towards the sky- which was clear and dotted with stars, “I’ve been on a lot of missions with SHIELD.” She started- he wasn’t sure where it was going, “They send you out with an assignment. It might be protection, intel retrieval, or execution. But for _recovery_ missions, they have a special code. We don’t shoot to kill. We shoot to capture- to disarm. In fact, we’re armed specifically for that purpose.”

His heart slowed in his chest.

She brought her eyes to his again, her own still and focused, “It was a tranquilizer gun, Steve.”

Steve knew he’d messed up when he saw the soft defeat painted on her expression. He knew she hated herself for what she’d done in her past- and always feared being judged for it- and that was precisely what he’d just done.

His stomach turned with guilt as he thought back to the moment- no blood on the floor, nothing had sprayed behind the man after he’d been shot…she was telling the truth. And he should have believed her. No, he should have believed _in_ her.

Natasha turned away from him and began walking again- her limp especially pronounced.

Steve couldn’t go, though. He couldn’t let her continue thinking that he didn’t think highly of her, that he didn’t trust her, “Nat, wait.”

She did, she stopped again, waiting.

“I should have trusted you.” Steve paused for a moment, “I thought…well, I don’t know what I thought, but I shouldn’t have accused you of anything.”

Natasha turned around again. She didn’t smile, she didn’t give any indication that she’d heard what he said, “If you aren’t going to trust me, just admit it, Cap! I’m tired of us pretending like you do. And pretending like it isn’t all linked to that night a few weeks ago.” She tossed something towards him, which he caught abruptly, “Why don’t you just go.”

Steve looked down at what he’d just caught in his hand. It was a small compass- a little bit more on the high tech side, but it still reminded him of the one he used to carry, the one with Peggy in it. He wondered if this one had the same sort of sentimental meaning for Natasha. When he looked up again, though, she was further away, having begun to walk away from him again.

“I’m not leaving you!” Steve insisted, feeling like he was handling the conversation horribly, “I do trust you, Nat, I do. And I want to help you.”

Natasha didn’t stop walking this time, “I don’t need your help. You can’t help me and you can’t fix me either, as much as you’d probably like to.” Her voice cut through the silence of the night in a fierce bite.

“Nat, just listen to me!”

Natasha swung around then, like she was in combat, but she didn’t hit him, at least not physically, “I don’t have time to listen to you! I don’t have time to be scrutinized by you or to deconstruct everything so that _you_ can analyze the moral integrity of it, okay? Don’t you think I know what I’ve done? Don’t you think that any time I may have to kill someone, I think it over 10 plus times in my head, because I know that I need to make up for the lives I’ve already cost the world? Don’t you get that I _agonize_ at night about all of the innocence and morality that I’ve manipulated and corrupted? I think about all of it, Steve, I think about it _constantly_.” The agonizing truth in her voice was too much for him. He could tell she needed him to understand- to _know_ that she was only grazing the surface of these horrors that she’d never be able to escape, these events that she would be defined by forever.

And it broke him.

“I don’t have time to be reminded. I don’t have time for any of this.” Natasha said conclusively.

Steve was so hurt for her. He felt like his heart was going to explode-like it was bleeding inside of him and radiating outward in painful and complete empathetic agony. He hated that her past had been so cruel, and that he’d so foolishly played into it.

He’d failed her.

But he couldn’t let her just walk away. He had to make up for it. He had to make her understand that he wanted to be here for her- and that he never meant to remind her of her past, but everything was getting jumbled in his head. He just needed her to slow down, he needed her to stop and listen, and talk to him, “So you don’t have time for _me_? You brought me all the way here and now, my help is a waste of time? I care about you, Nat! That’s why I’m here. And you don’t get to tell me to leave. You don’t! Not after everything.”

They both knew what he was referencing.

But she didn’t move.

He expected her to fight back- he expected her to hit even harder than he had, hurting him again. He deserved it- after the way he’d treated her, like a criminal, like a murderer. He wanted her to retaliate, just so that they could have even ground again.

So that he could see that she cared too. So that he could see _her_ , the vitality in her eyes, even if they were lit with anger. Anything would be better than the blankness he was getting lost in now. Anything would be better than having to stare at her back- and watch her walk away.

He needed her to respond.

But she didn’t.

She didn’t even react.

She didn’t even breathe.

It was cold, he would have seen it. But nothing.

She didn’t do anything.

Until she started walking away.

And all he could do was watch as her figure got smaller, descending deeper and deeper into the blackness until she became a part of it.


End file.
